


this is a beautiful start (to a lifelong love letter)

by inanotheruniverse



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, CEO Kara Danvers, Established Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, F/F, Lena Luthor Knows Kara Danvers Is Supergirl, Light Angst, Soccer AU, Supercorptober2020, TW: Mentions of Alcohol and Alcohol Consumption in Chapter 22, and not a straight ally christ show pls get it right, coffee shop AU, day 15 alternatively known as alex functioning like an actual gay, supercorp babies bec why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 73,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26788246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inanotheruniverse/pseuds/inanotheruniverse
Summary: this is a collection of prompt fills for Supercorptober2020xxxi. spookyThere is only darkness that’s slowly spreading across the backwoods, and it gives Kara the feeling like she’s running out of light and out of time. It quickens her pace, all the while training her ears to the barest hint of sound—of any sign that she isn’t completely alone in such an untouched piece of land.Eventually she breaks through. Kara reaches the last of the tall trees and bursts through the wide gaps, only to be greeted by an even bigger expanse filled with snow, and a wooden barn that stands all by itself near the tract’s farthest edge.“Okay,” Kara blows a breath out, her gaze darting around what she now thinks is the eeriest place she’s ever been to. “That isnotcreepy at all.”or in which kara's on her way to respond to barry and sara's call for help, but she lands somewhere else
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 605
Kudos: 1456





	1. touch down (like a seven four seven)

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first foray in the supercorp fandom, so i'd like to apologize in advance if i don't get their voices right. (i also haven't seen the show since s2. mostly just clips on twitter and yt.) i hope you guys like it!

Kara has seen seasons change more often than anything else, on this Earth and the others—in _this_ universe and then some.

Fall remains her favorite though. The marvel of leaves changing from green to various shades of orange and red holds quite the candle to the bluest ocean she’s once seen on a planet one or two lightyears away, or the unfading gold light of the sun from another.

(Maybe it reminds her a bit of Krypton, of _red_ that means life and the rebirth that will follow more than death and destruction.) 

There’s really only one shade of color that measures up to how much she loves the season. Her favorite shade of green. But it’s currently on the other side of the world, hidden in the safest place she and everyone in their team managed to think of in the span of a week that’s also been riddled by every sort of attack Leviathan could send their way in their attempts to break Lex Luthor out; and under the most strict instructions of _absolute_ zero contact that Alex has made them both swear to, no matter how much every inch of Kara’s body _aches_ at the mere thought.

But Alex has promised in return that it’ll all be over in two weeks. And Alex never breaks her promises. Kara opts to believe that as she stares at the expanse of the city. Her eyes sweep over the seas of green and red for some semblance of comfort, draining the last dredges of her coffee for the littlest warmth it can offer before chucking the paper cup inside the bin.

Four more days. Kara thinks she’ll be fine.

…

Kara is most definitely _not_ fine. 

Two days left—and _yes_ , she definitely has them crossed out in glaring red on the calendar that she’s stuck on her fridge door for this very purpose—and everything that can go wrong has gone wrong.

 _Everything_.

As it turns out, Leviathan has one last trick up their sleeve: an _ace_ in the form of a White Martian that Rao knows how they managed to pull in. It has morphed itself as one of their agents assigned to transfer Lex to the new prison cell they’ve built solely for him, and then switched itself back to its towering form just as Alex has unlocked the gates.

The next thing Kara knows, there’s a hulking alien wreaking havoc all over the DEO, with a gaggle of Leviathan soldiers right behind it. But it’s the _boom_ that ultimately catches Kara’s attention, ringing in her ears in a way that _isn’t_ supposed to. 

Loud, and throbbing, and _deafening_.

Her muscles scream in protest next—or maybe it really is _her_ , her own voice that’s shrieking in pain as she watches the worst shade of green course through her veins. At the corner of her eye, she catches Kal-El not faring well either, falling to his knees in his struggle for air.

Kara’s never been one to hate anybody; has made it a habit to give second chances, a third, a fourth, some fifths.

But she really, really, really _hates_ Lex.

…

Lena though, Kara _loves_.

 _Rao_ , Kara loves her so fiercely. Her unrestricted laughter whenever she and Kara win at game night. The witty retorts she’s no longer scared to throw at Alex’s way.

Her courage. Her tenacity. Her brilliant mind. 

Her loyalty. Her good heart. The biggest, greatest good heart Kara’s ever known.

Kara may be the Girl of Steel, but Lena is Kara’s very own personal hero.

It’s something that Lena has never failed to prove. Even during moments when she’s not supposed to. 

(Maybe especially _then_.)

She pops in—quite literally, too, jumping out of a blue portal that pops out in the middle of the fight out of nowhere—armed with two small grenades concealed in one hand, and what might as well be Kara’s heart in the other.

Her broken _Lena_ is pained at first, as she pleads at her to step right back into the portal where she’s come from. Yet, it only gets buried beneath the _soundless_ explosion that follows when both of the grenades leave Lena’s hand and split open at the peak of their arcs, a bright light then filling the room and practically blinding everyone save for Kara and Superman.

What comes next is a blur. Between the much reinforced yellow sun grenades and the adrenaline from finally seeing her favorite pair of green eyes after the longest two weeks of Kara’s life, Kara can’t recall much. Just a ton of punching and kicking, freezing the White Martian until it’s almost a literal block of ice, and the kiss Lena gives her before she goes after Lex’s escaping chopper, wrapped in _good luck_ , _kick his ass to the next galaxy_ , and _I love you to the ever expanding universe and back_.

…

When it’s all over and Lex is back and _finally_ secured, Kara kisses Lena this time, wraps it in _you’ve always been the best out of all of us_ , _I missed you so much_ , and _I love you to the universe and back too_.

…

“How—when—but—” Alex sputters as she looks around the mess she’ll have to fix later. Though, ultimately, her gaze settles on Lena, her eyes wide and wild with a mix of utter confusion and unbridled reverence she can’t quite manage to restrain. “You promised!”

“I did,” Lena agrees. But there’s a smirk that takes over her face that Alex can only roll her eyes at. “You made me promise not to contact Kara, and I adhered to that completely. You just never made me promise not to talk to Winn.”

Right behind the other woman, Winn waltzes in as if he’s been beckoned, stepping out of a similar portal that Lena has earlier and gaping at the same mess that Alex is already getting a headache from just thinking about.

(Kara’s sure it’s a mechanism from the future, a technology Lena isn’t even supposed to wield yet, and yet, she does. _Of course_.)

An exasperated sigh escapes Alex’s lungs, but it’s gratitude that fills the space between them, one that’s soon gone as Alex pulls a surprised Lena to a grateful hug. It’s a sentiment she has no problem letting Lena know, either. “Thanks for saving our asses.”

“I had Winn’s help,” Lena tries to curtail.

Yet, Alex refuses to let her. But she does pull back to give Lena some room, knowing that even after everything and despite all the good she’s done, there are still some things Lena isn’t used to receiving. So she makes a show of looking over her shoulder where Winn is, as if watching his reaction when she says, “I’m sure all he did was send you the blueprint.”

Winn gasps aptly. “How dare you. I sent her the materials too!”

Lena laughs, lets herself be pulled by Kara this time, and sinks into Kara’s arms where she knows she belongs.

…

In a tiny park that lies at the outskirts of the city, this is where Kara finally gets to enjoy the beginnings of her favorite season.

She basks in the scent of the cool Autumn air that fills her as she drops her weight on the back of one of the wooden benches facing the small lake. And there’s a kind of warmth that spreads all over her chest that has absolutely nothing to do with the cup of pumpkin spice latte resting in her hands.

 _It’s_ Lena. It always has been Lena.

The one constant in Kara’s life that she _knows_ she can depend on—though there was a time that Lena _wasn’t_ , and Kara will spend the rest of her life making up for that—even more constant and sure than the changing seasons.

Lena who knows each one of Kara’s smiles, and the reason behind every crinkle in her forehead. 

Lena who probably will never understand Kara’s affinity for feeding ducks, but brings a loaf of bread anyway.

Lena, who Kara is sure _now_ she loves even more than Fall itself.

…

“So how was Undredal?”

Lena hums, burrowing into Kara’s side as another breeze ruffles her hair. “Very green. Very humble. And the people are lovely.”

“Yeah?” Kara replies. She leans down a little bit to plant a tender kiss on Lena’s temple, and then adds with a teasing grin. “Met someone?”

“I did, actually,” Lena says much to Kara’s horror. “He’s cute, and quite the perfect gentleman during our dates. A bit scruffy but it works for him. Comes up to my waist when he stands to greet me every time he sees me.”

The rest of Lena’s words don’t seem to register in Kara’s mind, her thoughts suddenly stuck on a loop that repeats nothing else but _dates_ , and her heart pounding in a way she really doesn’t like—has her sputtering through. “D-dates?”

Her face twists in a way that sends a jolt straight to Lena’s heart, aching to soothe it. She forgets about her quip entirely then; says, “He’s my neighbor’s dog, darling. They were a kind elderly couple that baked scones for me almost every day that I spent there.”

“Oh,” Kara mumbles as realization dawns at her, the rest of Lena’s words finally filtering in; can’t help but whine, “Lena.”

“They do keep trying to set me up with their son though. I must admit I admire their persistence.”

“Lena!”

(But, _oh_ , Kara loves her so.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all, i would like to thank [kmsdraws ](https://twitter.com/kmsdraws/status/1302945246565683200?s=20) for the prompts!
> 
> let me know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	2. got your green eyes in the back of my mind (it’s true)

“Hi, what can I get you today?”

Lena starts a little. She’s gotten used to the cheery voice, having frequented the coffee shop for quite some time now—it’s her favorite, really; not that anyone’s asked aside from her best friend, Sam—has known its owner even longer, being that they’ve shared half of the same classes the last two semesters.

This, though, is a tad bit new. _This_ being the name tag pinned over the shirt pocket of the cashier’s chest. It usually says _Hello, I’m Kara_ , but now it has the _I’m_ blotted out by black marker ink so that the _Hello_ is perfectly— _correctly_ —followed by _prettiest girl I’ve seen today_.

(How she managed to fit all those words within the tiny space and in such a neat scribble, Lena has _no_ idea.)

“Uhm,” Lena tries to say; wants to tell the equally beautiful blonde girl who smiles like the sun that she wants her usual. But Lena just can’t stop wondering, and she just _has_ to ask. So she does. “Did you forget the, umh,” she tries a second time, yet she ends up merely pointing at the name tag instead.

“Oh,” Kara mumbles. A well-timed dip of her head hides the sudden flush that blooms on her cheeks. Though there’s really nothing she can do about the redness that crawls down to her neck but fiddle with her glasses. “It’s—there was a dare. There _may_ have been a dare involved.”

Lena nods, her brows arching in barely-contained amusement. “I see.”

Kara flushes even more that she starts swallowing quite visibly, and in a fast, admittedly slightly worrying phase. “Anyway,” she attempts to press on, waving her hands in an added gesture. But she’s still stiff and so flustered that she ends up looking like she’s slicing at the air.

Lena laughs, more to herself—and the adorable state she’s seemed to have left Kara in—than anything; decides to save the other woman from further embarrassment by speaking. “Can I get my usual?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Kara answers. Her voice is unnaturally high, not that Lena knows the sound of it or anything, even as she tries to squeeze in one of her quips. “Or, well, I guess Nia’s, since she’s our barista.”

“Yep, that’s me,” the woman in question chimes in from somewhere behind Kara. She even brings a hand to where her very own name tag is pinned on her apron as she starts to approach the counter to stand beside the other woman; places it palm-up right beneath the scrawl that reads _Nia_ in all caps.

Kara, in turn, just lets out an exasperated sigh and closes her eyes, tight enough that Lena can hazard two guesses on what she’s thinking: she’s wishing for Nia to disappear, or for the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

She twists a little to meet Nia, despite also having known her three days after her first ever visit to the cafe, smiles at her teasingly. “ _Enchanté_?”

“Oooh,” Nia hums, eyes sparkling with amusement and looking impressed as she turns to _whisper_ to Kara. Or at least she thinks she does. “Your lady doth speaketh French. _Taste, muy bien_.”

“That’s not even Fr—I—” Kara fumbles for words, but ends up just pushing Nia out of Lena’s view when she fails to come up with something else and before Nia can wreak further havoc, especially on Kara’s already dwindling spirits.

Lena watches her walk away, the sound of her cackle filling in the air until Kara speaks again. “Sorry about that.” She pushes her glasses back up, shaking the last ten minutes away with a more steady smile this time. “I—your usual right? That’d be two dollars and fifty cents.”

Lena hands Kara a ten matched with one of her _charmed_ smiles. The rest of its change goes to the shop’s tip jar like it always does, and the effects of the same smile colors the tips of Kara’s ears, charming Lena right back.

(There’s a reason why Lena has always been Nia’s favorite customer. A _ton_ , really, though Kara will always have _more_.)

“Thank you!” Kara tells her—more like _squeaks_ , really. Lena doesn’t stand a chance of _not_ being endeared. “I’ll be right by your table to bring your Au Lait once it’s ready. Same spot?”

“Of course. You know where to find me.”

Kara beams at her then, wide and bright, as if the remnants of her earlier nervousness she has completely shaken away.

And it’s like a shock to her system that Lena only ever gets from coffee, as warm as the first sip she takes after she’s let it cool a little, with a sprinkle of sugar and something else incredibly nice that Lena doesn’t quite have a name yet.

…

  
  


Seven minutes and fifteen pounding _lub dubs_ later—when she catches Kara’s eyes just as she’s handing the change to another customer, and Kara sends her another one of her smiles that Lena’s honestly starting to think she’s more hooked into than coffee itself—her Au Lait arrives.

Nia’s drawn a gear over the foam, which Lena incredibly appreciates and kind of also hates because of how steady Nia’s hands must have been, and she may be a tad bit jealous of that.

“It was just half yesterday,” Lena says by way of greeting, though she’s unable to keep the awe from her tone.

Kara laughs softly, and then lifts the mug up the tray to set it in front of Lena. “Nia’s been practicing. I think she’s trying to find a better gig than this.”

 _I am not_ , floats from behind the counter, a feigned affronted sound that Nia easily follows with, “But if Lena wants her own personal barista, I am very much open to discussion.”

“And if I do,” Lena replies, equally teasing. “You’ll be my first call.”

“Hear that, _K_?” Nia yells towards Kara this time. “So if I were you I’d _chop-chop_.”

“Ignore her,” Kara says; even makes a show of doing so.

“Like, _today_ , Miss Danvers.”

“I’m so sorry,” Kara mouths. 

A part of Lena does feel sorry for her, for the helpless look that’s starting to take over her face. But a bigger part of Lena is admittedly enjoying such banter; feels like Kara is more at ease here than when she’s at university, and Lena loves that for reasons she’s still resisting to name.

(But it’s _there_ , was at the back of her throat the week before, but then Kara’s asked her what she knew about quantum entanglement during their shared walk to Quantum Mechanics class and _it_ slid further up and then out; now dangles at the tip of her tongue, _so_ ready to be let loose.)

She’s saved from saying anything that she can classify as stupid by Kara clearing her throat. Kara’s smile is back, albeit it’s a little shaky. Though the tremble her hand makes, as it sets the slice of cake right next to where Lena’s coffee mug is, is much more noticeable. 

But Lena chooses not to comment on it, much to Kara’s relief. She pulls her hand back, wiping them both on her apron more as a nervous habit than a conscious move.

“I don’t remember ordering cake,” Lena says, but it’s not unkind.

Kara nips at her bottom lip, then frees it before answering. “It’s on the house.”

“Oh.” Lena isn’t—definitely _isn’t_ —mesmerized by that sight. “Well, thank you.”

“It’s—I’ve been working on my baking. Alex says I may have the knack for it. She’s my sister by the way. She—she owns this place. She and her girlfriend. You may have met them once, when Nia and I had to miss work for some symposium thing at school. Not—not that I’m saying you’re here every day. Or that that’s a bad thing. In fact it’s a good—I’m very glad. Just super glad. That you are. Here, I mean.” 

Lena’s able to pick a ton of things from that. But she doesn’t really think she has the emotional capability to unpack most of it right now, not when Kara’s standing right in front of her, fiddling with the hem of her apron nervously as she tries—and fails—not to stare at Lena, and Lena feels a weakness in her knees that only Kara has ever made her feel. So she chooses on the closest— _lightest_ part to focus on. “Baking, huh?”

“Yeah,” Kara nods. “It’s my first cake of the day.”

Lena playfully narrows her eyes. “So I’m your guinea pig?”

“What?” Kara panics—well, almost does, if not for the laugh Lena cushions her teasing comment with. “It’s—no! I tried it first.”

(Just in case she somehow has mistaken salt for sugar again. But of course she doesn’t tell Lena that.)

“I’m just kidding, Kara,” Lena appeases. She shifts her gaze towards the slice of sweet pastry, noting the minced pieces of carrots spread cleanly all over the two layers. Lena _knows_ it’s a total coincidence, but no one really has to know that she’d like to think it’s _more_ , that Kara has picked her favorite out of all the possible choices.

Like _quantum entanglement_ , her mind echoes.

“I’m sure it’s delicious. It certainly looks like it.”

“I really hope so,” Kara answers, nipping at her bottom lip again. “Or I’d be really, really embarrassed.”

“You’d never have to be.”

Silence fills the space again. But Lena feels _something_ stretch over between them, feels it stronger when Kara twists as if to return to her spot by the cashier and says, “Well, I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your day.”

 _It_ stretches further as Kara starts walking away, and then snaps taut when Kara gains one more step. It snaps Lena back into attention in turn, her mouth moving before her brain can even catch up to her. “Kara!”

Kara wheels around, tilting her head to look at Lena expectantly. “Yes?”

“Do you give baking lessons?” Lena then asks—and, _okay_ , maybe her brain hasn’t really fully caught up yet.

“Sorry?”

“Do you—can you teach me how to bake?” Yes, definitely hasn’t caught up to her thought process yet. Her mouth and her brain really needs to cooperate. “It’s just, my brother’s birthday is coming up, and I was thinking I’ll make him his own cake instead of buying one.”

Maybe even put _Happy Birthday, Baldie_ as the message, and, _okay_ , maybe it isn’t too bad of an idea after all.

“I—” Kara begins to say, looking like she’s at a loss too. Lena can’t really blame her either. Yet, Kara agrees in the end, and Lena definitely doesn’t know how to deal with that. “Sure.”

In the heat of the moment—Lena will later on say, will refuse to call it anything but _that_ —she grabs the book she’s set on the table, flipping to one of the blank pages at the very back. And then, she looks up at Kara, tipping her chin up to gesture towards the pen tucked inside one of the pockets of Kara’s apron. “Can I borrow your pen?”

Kara hands it wordlessly, and it’s only the slight crinkle in between her brows who speaks for her own confusion.

Lena will also later on say that there is a part of her that feels pained as she tears off half of the blank page. But for now, she does it without a single hint of remorse, and then scribbles out ten digits that may or may not _set_ the next years of her life.

“Call me? And then we can talk about it.”

…

(Much, much later on, Lena will _definitely_ say she’s never been more thankful for a slice of cake and a half-sized piece of paper.

It’s not in her vows, but she does tell Kara at some point, under a sea of stars, and amidst the sound of calm waves hitting the shore and her very own breathing finally coming down from a soaring height.)

…

  
  


“Figures. Your lady likes veggies in her pastries. That’s just so _wrong_.”

“Your favorite pie is literally pumpkin.”

“It’s an ancient recipe and has been proven to actually taste good. Carrot, though? It’s like, just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”

“Nia.”

“Yeah, yeah, it got you the girl anyway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had a lot of fun writing this one! i hope you guys did, too!
> 
> let me know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	3. lumiere, darling

Kara clutches tightly at the note concealed in her hand. She feels it crumple beneath her fist, creased edges buckling under the solid weight of the thin silver band wrapped around her fourth finger. 

But Kara doesn’t really mind, not when she has _East Wing Sitting Room_ practically etched inside her head. Those four words rebound all over every time she nods at a familiar face she comes across with: Olivia, who’s in charge of keeping the West Wing pristine, Isabelle from the _Archives_ ; Anthony, the guard posted right by the hallway Kara’s currently cruising down on.

The last one, she greets with a smile, even though Jess merely returns it with a polite _Miss Danvers_ that she matches with a stiff nod. Then, she gestures towards the lavish double doors prefacing her intended destination.

(Kara’s not worried about _that_ either. She knows she’s won Jess over the mere second she’d set a tiny square box on Jess’ desk, and Jess found the lone coin missing from her collection.

She traced it all the way back to a small town in the Philippines, but the earnest smile that adorned Lena’s face when she was shown in was worth every effort.) 

Kara stands at the designated spot that’s a few steps away from the doors, letting Jess take the lead. She’s still quite insistent on observing proper protocol despite being told numerous times that she really doesn’t have to, even more so the last three months. 

Because Kara may not be much of a stickler for rules, but she’d walk the straightest path just for the woman behind the door. Whatever makes _her_ life easier, Kara is determined to do.

Jess twists around to throw her one last look, as if to ask if Kara’s ready to step through, her steady hand already poised for a knock. Kara hastily pats her ponytail flat in turn and smoothens the front of her dark blue dress shirt, tucking straying edges back inside her dress pants.

With a heaved sigh, she nods at Jess to go ahead, sucking in another lungful of air when she hears Jess’ knuckles rap firmly against the broad white wood.

A faint _come in_ wafts through the thick doors; Kara’s honestly surprised it manages to drift to her ears. But then, maybe she’s always just been so attuned to anything and everything that has to do with love of her life. 

Jess cracks the doors open at the permission, though Kara doesn’t follow right away. She waits dutifully for the other woman to beckon her in, tunes out the conversation when she hears the muffled exchange of words out of respect and Kara’s own strict sense of privacy.

It doesn’t really take long anyway. She’s just three lines in on the song that’s been stuck in her head for a week now—her ring twirling around her finger just four times—when Jess finally gestures at her to step inside, leaving the room with a curtsy towards _Her Majesty_.

…

  
  


But Kara? Kara she leaves in the room with _Lena_.

Lena, whose face Kara hasn’t seen in person for three weeks now. _Three weeks_ that Kara has had to stick with and try to be content with pixelated versions of her on Kara’s screen, and non-moving ones every time Lena sends her a picture.

Granted, Lena’s sent her a lot. But nothing ever really beats the real thing, does it?

Lena’s perched by the couch rest, her hip propped against the soft, plump edge that curves the top. Kara finds her gazing past the Victorian windows, her eyes following the gaggle of busy people waltzing in and out of the palace doors and carrying all sorts of flowers and glittering decorations.

Kara finds her beautiful like _that_ , looking out for her people and never down. She’d be content to stare at Lena for hours, watch her until the golden light of the sun fades on Lena’s face, and wait for the moon to replace it, see it sparkle in Lena’s eyes.

But Kara’s missed her, too. Terribly. So she clears her throat so as not to startle the other woman, and then sends her a warm smile when Lena twirls around to follow the sound, like she can finally breathe easily again after three weeks of not being able to.

“Hey,” she greets her softly next. She rounds the huge couch to get to Lena, but not without throwing a haphazard glance towards the direction of the double doors to check it herself first. 

It’s still locked tight just as Jess has left it, but Kara can never be too sure, especially _now_. Not when they’re _so_ close, and things have been set in their right places, and Lena’s pulled all the strings and pushed the proverbial ball rolling.

“Kara,” Lena breathes out, whispering her name like she can finally breathe now, too—as if she’s finally broken into the surface of whatever it is that has her gasping for air. 

(It’s Kara’s absence, Lena missing her so immensely it washes over her in waves.)

She pulls Kara into her arms—or maybe it’s Kara who pulls her in, Lena isn’t even too sure anymore—squeezing her tight. 

Kara folds in on herself in turn, tucking her face into the crook of Lena’s neck and breathing her in until Lena’s scent is the only thing that’s swimming in her head. Not the hours ticking by too slowly for Kara’s liking, or the gala being set in her name, or the hustle and bustle in the grandest hall Lena’s palace has to offer.

It’s just her and the woman in Kara’s arms. And for Kara, it’s the only thing that matters. 

…

  
  


“We’ll have to get ready soon,” Lena tells her a few beats after, when they’ve decided to make use of the most comfortable couch Kara has ever sat on—royalty really does have its perks—and Lena’s getting some much deserved rest, propped on Kara’s chest.

There’s a hint of admonition in her tone as Kara runs her lips along the trail she’s brushed against the curve of Lena’s jaw, and it mixes with the faint sound of the orchestra coming from below.

Lena vaguely remembers the final rehearsals being at this particular hour, but the warmth of Kara’s lips on her skin is so distracting she honestly can’t think properly, and her next words are swallowed by the solid kiss Kara presses against her own.

She almost chases her as Kara pulls back for air, though ultimately, she lets it peter off to chaste pecks because they really do need to prepare and Jess is bound to knock any time soon. “Darling.”

“Ugh, fine,” Kara whines. The petulance in her tone makes Lena chuckle. “The sooner we get there, the sooner the gala starts, I guess. And the sooner it ends.”

“A very acceptable point,” Lena can’t help but quip, the corner of her lips tugging up to a smirk. “If only we hadn’t included the time in the invitations.”

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“And I love it when I am.”

“I see.” Kara feigns a scowl then, her nose crinkling in a way that Lena is unable to resist kissing the tip of. “This is how it’s going to be for the next sixty years, huh?”

A wide grin spreads on Lena’s face at the reminder, one that’s impossible to tamp down even if she tries. But she can’t let Kara know that, has to keep the upper hand, so she cocks her head, arching a brow at the other woman. “And what if it is? Having second thoughts?”

“God, never,” Kara refutes. Pointedly even, as if the mere idea is something she will never be able to get behind of. “I’d rather sit through fifteen hundred dinners with your mother.”

“Oh, darling, I will never let you suffer through that.” Lena cups her cheek, ducking to meet Kara’s eyes. But there’s a spark of good-natured mischief in them that Kara honestly almost expects what comes next. “Maybe after the wedding. But not right now. I wouldn’t want you running away for the hills, would I?”

“You’re mean,” Kara says, sticks her tongue out and then pouts. “And you’re lucky I love you.”

“I know,” Lena accedes easily. Because it’s the truth, and it’s a fact that Lena will never be embarrassed about regardless of how their night turns out, and whatever will happen the following days. “I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”

…

  
  


Jess does knock in a few minutes later, just as Lena’s rising from the couch and reaching for Kara’s hand to take with her.

“Your Majesty,” Jess greets her first, then, “Miss Danvers.”

“Yes?”

“Your dresses are in their proper rooms, Ma’am. The stylists are also ready for the both of you.”

Lena thanks her then, yet she appears to have no plans of stepping back out, clearly intent on keeping the queen in her already tight schedule. So Lena just sighs and moves to follow, but Kara’s hand circles around her wrist and halts her mid-step.

“Can you spare us five more minutes, Jess?” Kara asks the woman standing guard at the door. She keeps her gaze at her even though she can feel the puzzled look Lena sends her way.

“I’m sorry, Miss Danvers, but—” Jess tries to say. But it’s Lena who cuts her off, the queen ultimately deciding that she does have five more minutes to scrape off of her packed night now that her curiosity has been piqued.

“It’s alright, Jess. We’ll be out in five minutes. Thank you.”

There’s hesitation in Jess’ steps when she leaves again, yet she knows there’s really nothing she can do about Lena’s decision so she wisely keeps her mouth shut.

Kara, in turn, heads towards the door, making Lena even more confused and still equally curious. It only grows as she cracks it open, leaving a small gap in between the door and its twin before heading back right to where Lena is still rooted on the spot.

It’s small enough that anyone who passes by still won’t be privy to their moment, but large enough that the music wafting from downstairs is able to filter in unmuffled.

“Kara?” Lena asks, now completely unable to keep the puzzlement from bursting out. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Kara quickly assures; matches it with an earnest smile to put Lena at ease. She just really, _genuinely_ wants five more minutes alone with her before the craziness of the night that she knows is about to come takes over them both. “I was just thinking that we’d probably be too busy mingling around later. With, you know, fending off questions until our official statement comes out, and brushing elbows and whatnot. That I probably won’t be able to do this.”

“Do what?”

Kara only takes Lena’s hands in answer, presses a kiss to the humble gem on top of the silver band that Lena wears—Kara’s mother’s ring, her most prized possession before she willingly gave it to the love of her life just as her mother has always told her to—and then wraps them around her neck.

She slides her own hands down next, encircling them around Lena’s waist until she’s able to pull her closer—till they’re standing toe to toe and the tips of Lena’s heels are touching her oxfords.

“I’d be so bummed,” Kara then says— _whispers_ , the soft puffs of air hitting Lena’s skin like fluttering kisses. “If I don’t get at least one dance with the most beautiful woman at the party tonight.”

“Goodness, you are such a dork,” Lena teases back. But Kara can tell— _knows_ that she’s charmed. It’s in the giddiness of her smile, and the way she tries to hide the pink hue dotting her cheeks away from Kara’s view.

Kara won’t let her though, so she presses her forehead against Lena’s and starts swaying them around in a slow circle, altogether timed in the same melody as the symphony that’s filling the room.

And for five minutes, Kara is holding her entire world in her arms and it’s nothing but perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	4. now they’re annoyed we’re not looking at the menu just yet

Early morning conference calls are the bane of Lena Luthor’s existence. But early morning conference calls _on_ a Sunday is a category of its own cause of misery.

Lena’s just about to indulge herself, starting with some warm morning sunlight that actually feels pleasant and not at all burning. Perhaps some waffles next—a rarity and a treat all the same, and one she thinks she rightfully deserves after the week she’s had. 

Her Au Lait has been served, its aroma already feeling like a balm that soothes a fair amount of the roughness from the past week. It’s also at the right temperature, exactly how she prefers it, and is merely waiting for her to take that first sip when her phone rings and her screen flashes her assistant’s name.

Lena knows that Jess _knows_ that she is not to be disturbed, has left explicit instructions _not_ to before she turned her laptop off and stepped out of her office around eleven that past Friday night.

So Lena _knows_ it’s going to be one of those days again, because Jess _knows_ and she called anyway.

This is where Lena Luthor finds herself: inside one of her favorite cafes, needing to trade the perfect sunlight and her perfect breakfast for switching on a laptop she’s made a promise not to touch today, in a quiet spot tucked at the corner of the cafe, and cold food she’ll come back to once it’s over.

At least her new seat has the view of the windows; Lena tries to take some consolation from that. Though she’s not entirely sure because she can see the place she’s just vacated and now it feels more like an annoyance than an actual source of comfort.

She’s just five minutes in on the call, but there’s already a rapidly escalating argument between two of her board members. Two men Lena hasn’t found a valid reason to replace yet—though she already has their replacements in mind—and the only thing Lena can do short of dropping from the call itself is wish for some kind of distraction to keep her from doing something stupid and definitely legally liable, like firing every single one of them on the spot.

(In the end, Lena just rolls her eyes.)

…

  
  


The distraction is a _good_ kind, and comes in the form of a fluffy white dog with a red handkerchief tied around its neck like a tiny cape, his tongue lolling out as he plops down sitting right by Lena’s feet. 

Lena doesn’t notice him at first, the slow rise of her temper being another kind of distraction that she absolutely hates. She’s a little too occupied with glaring at everyone through their screens, her patience nearing the end of its already short thread in each second that passes.

The dog doesn’t seem to like that either, doesn’t like the scowl that’s starting to paint itself on Lena’s face. So he whines his protest, bumping his head on Lena’s hand that’s hanging limply over the chair’s arm, and inevitably announcing his presence to Lena.

Lena almost jumps in surprise, and it’s only thanks to the dog’s kind face that she doesn’t—and the years and years of experience facing all kinds of _clowns_ behind L-Corp’s boardroom doors.

She does press a hand over her chest though, prompting Chelsea from HR to ask if everything’s alright.

“Yes, everything’s fine,” Lena assures, dismissing that line of questioning by clearing her throat. “Please do continue.”

The dog lets out another whine from the lack of attention but switches his approach, rubbing his face on the back of Lena’s hand this time. Her fingers flex in turn, curling around his head in tender pets that settles him down.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen this proposal everyone seems to be too keen to discuss,” Lena snips on the call, though her hand slides down through soft fur, settling on a fluffy neck. “And on a Sunday, too.”

The man from earlier— _Donald_ from Operations in their Dallas office, Lena vaguely remembers; she really needs to do a revamp soon—begins to contend the necessity of the call. But it’s all mindless chatter to Lena now, her concentration quickly slipping away from the conversation and down to the adorable creature still imploring for more of her attention.

Lena discreetly angles the camera away while Donald prattles on, tipping the screen even farther back so that less of her face is visible. She then taps on one of the pods tucked in her ear to mute her side of things from the conference, and finally gives the dog the attention he deserves.

He barks at that, seemingly recognizing that Lena is _his_ now, his tongue lolling back out again in excitement. The sight makes Lena chuckle, and she rewards him with scratches at the back of his ears.

His whole body wiggles at that, but it’s the lack of jingling sounds that draws Lena’s gaze towards the name tag stuck in between the tiny bells. She stoops down slightly to fix it, the pad of her thumb tracing the letters carved comically on the metal plate.

 _Krypto_.

A small rolled up paper takes her attention next, tucked behind his blue collar belt. Lena plucks it out and twists the collar back into place, then proceeds to unroll the paper in between her fingers with a puzzled frown.

_Hi._

Lena snaps her head up, her gaze sweeping around and out of the cafe. But it’s quite abrupt that it prompts another round of _is everything okay, Miss Luthor_ from her colleagues.

“Yes, everything is _still_ fine,” she says. “Though I ought to ask you that because it’s been twenty minutes and we clearly are achieving _nothing_.”

It effectively silences everyone on the other side of the call, save for Jess who’s at the far corner of Lena’ screen, her lips twitching, Lena can see. Hers almost does too, at the startled look on their faces, but Lena manages to set it to a thin line that conveys her obvious dismay. “I suggest we table this topic for the next board meeting and move to what’s next on our agenda.”

She waits for the chorus of _yes, Miss Luthor_ —though she gets _whatever you think is best, Miss Luthor_ from those who’ve developed an unfortunate habit of sucking up, as if it ever did them any favors—before she taps on her earpod again to get her on mute. Her gaze darts back to skimming the place, until it lands on her previous table that a blonde newcomer is now occupying.

Lena’s brow rises of its own accord, her head cocking the tiniest bit at the woman who seems to be waiting for Lena to notice her. And now that Lena has, she lifts a finger and points towards the paper Lena remembers she’s still holding; makes a show of taking a leisurely sip from her own cup of coffee to hide her smug grin.

Lena looks down at the paper once more. It still says _Hi_ and nothing else, so she roots for the pen she keeps inside her purse, scribbling her own _Hi_ that she punctuates with a question mark.

She rolls it up again, tucking it in the same place she found it. She pats Krypto’s head next, and then directs his gaze to where the blonde woman is perched on.

He recognizes _her_ immediately, darting off of his spot and through the automatic sliding doors, straight to where his owner is.

Lena would’ve loved to watch the woman’s next move, but the conference call is still unfortunately going and doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon, much to Lena’s displeasure.

Another round of arguments starts, sparked by Karen this time—still from Operations in Dallas, and Lena probably should begin the reorganization as early as tomorrow—who dismisses Jess so flippantly when the latter asked if she could offer any assistance that Lena feels the rise in her temper almost physically.

“Need I remind you, Miss Harper, that Jess is _my_ assistant,” Lena says. Pointed. _Biting_. “If you have any _issues_ with that, take it directly to me.”

There’s a string of much more colorful words lining up at the tip of Lena’s tongue, and _really_ , Karen should be thankful of Krypto trotting back to where he’s been sitting that Lena’s able to keep them from being let loose.

A fresh rolled up piece of paper is tucked in Krypto’s collar once more, though it’s in the opposite spot of where the previous one has been. Lena fishes it out to read the ensuing message.

 _You’re really pretty_.

Lena throws a glance towards Krypto’s owner, who boldly winks at her when they meet each other’s eyes—Lena absolutely _does not_ blush at that at all—before picking her pen back up to write her reply.

_Thank you?_

She sends Krypto back, and then faces the screen once more. The call is about to clock at forty minutes now, to which Lena’s honestly tempted to just halt completely, send everyone to pack up and just meet her in three days.

They’d all oblige anyway, Lena knows this. But how she can’t even manage to scrounge for a decent reason why she isn’t doing so is the real mystery.

She hears more than sees the patter of paws on the floor—and, _ah_ , yes, the dog. Lena is able to put up with so much nonsense for an early Sunday morning because of a very, very cute dog, and his very, very charming owner.

Their messenger lets out another bark as he throws himself up to lean on Lena’s lap. Lena snatches another paper in his collar before it gets drenched in slobber, rewarding Krypto with more scratches in between murmurs of _you’re such a good boy_ , and a boop on the tip of his nose.

_You seeing anybody?_

Lena can’t help the laugh that escapes from her mouth, feeling incredibly grateful that she hasn’t forgotten to go on mute. She looks at the blonde woman once more, watches her cross her arms and lean back against the chair rest. She wiggles her eyebrows playfully at Lena, her bottom lip caught in between her teeth. It’s a sight that Lena shouldn’t even find as attractive as she does given the way her glasses shake along with each movement, but she _does_ , and even Science wouldn’t be able to explain her reasons why.

Lena can only shake her head at the woman’s antics. She returns her attention back to the paper, penning what might be her heartbreak.

_Happily married, actually_

She gets a pout as the woman’s initial reply; not that Lena’s staring at her or anything, she still does have a meeting going on that requires her presence. And a messenger that trots back longer than usual.

_Aww, that’s too bad. But props to her for making an honest woman out of you._

_How do you know_ , Lena starts to write back. But she catches Krypto from the corner of her eye, sniffing the nearby rolling display stand filled with bread. So she calls him back and flags down a waitress, asks for some dog treats that the cafe luckily sells being a pet friendly place.

The conference call has honestly become the farthest thing on her mind now, having long lost interest the minute it started. Jess sees it too, so she begins steering the conversation towards the last bullet point on their agenda, even though she has to skip quite a few others.

With Krypto fed and looking particularly pleased about it, Lena returns to the reply she’s half written, finishing it so that it reads: _How do you know it’s not a he?_

She sends the dog back to his owner with two more treats. He reappears at Lena’s side after a few beats, bearing what Lena thinks is the last of her and the woman’s correspondence.

_Just a feeling :)_

…

  
  


The meeting finally ends just shy of an hour and five minutes, much to Lena’s utmost relief, with a follow-up that’s set to three weeks away from tomorrow.

(She might just give Jess a raise solely for that.)

Lena pushes her laptop to a close, clutching it against her chest as she gets to her feet. Krypto follows her dutifully, and together, they make their way out of the cafe and towards the table Lena has previously vacated.

The blonde woman is still perched on the same chair, affecting a lazy posture as she continues to lean against the rest. But her arms crossed scream anything _but_ , matched with the way she watches Lena approach, mischief written all over the crinkle in her eyes.

“Hello pretty lady,” the other woman greets, only straightening herself up when Lena draws near and she pulls Lena’s chair for her. “Who is happily married.”

Lena merely laughs in response; hides the affection behind the roll of her eyes. “Yes, that would be me.”

“Is your wife going to be mad if I sit here with you?” Her companion asks. She leans forward a little, Lena pushing the plateful of soggy waffles and the now cold cup of coffee out of her way so that her golden blonde curls don’t get drenched in either coffee or syrup.

“I don’t know, Kara,” Lena answers cheekily. “You tell me.”

“I think she won’t be,” the woman—Kara tells her then. “I think she’d even want you to give me a kiss.”

Lena chuckles at that, her laughter growing when Krypto barks from his new spot, pressed against Lena’s legs, seemingly to agree. “You think, huh? Maybe I should give her a call now and ask.”

“No need,” Kara says, waves a hand in dismissal. “I’m a hundred percent sure about it.”

The other woman hums, biting at her bottom lip to stifle the grin that’s threatening to escape. But she lets it in the end anyway, no longer able to keep up pretenses. 

She takes Kara’s hand and laces their fingers together, her thumb wiping away the traces of soot and ash that Kara has missed. A product of her early morning _super_ duties, and part of the reason why Lena’s getting waffles at the cafe and not making them at home like usual. Lena had needed a walk and some fresh air while she waited for her wife to join her for breakfast.

“You’re in a very playful mood today, honey,” Lena tells her then.

“I just watched you tell those, and I quote, _bumbling idiots_ , that they’re not achieving anything—which was very true, by the way, babe—so of course I’m in a _mood_.”

Lena raises a brow, her lips tugging up to a haughty smirk. (And, _okay_ , Lena may have called them _that_ under her breath once, perhaps even twice, but no one can blame her, really.) “Is it enough to warrant skipping breakfast?”

Kara sucks at her teeth, pretending to ponder. But ultimately, she scrunches her nose and shakes her head. “I love you, but I’ve been up at four am literally putting out fires with no food to fuel me. So it’s gonna be a pass to skipping, but a definite yes to _dessert_.”

She watches her wife laugh, her famed dimples popping out, and it’s a very much welcomed change from the crease that had seemingly carved itself on her wife’s forehead the past hour and five minutes. 

Kara basks at _that_ sight and the melodic sound that fills the air, soft, and lovely and genuine; lives for it even, her own heart swelling tenfold when _it_ grows at her next words, “I am dead serious about that kiss, though.”

Lena inches forward, nudging her nose against her wife’s to cross the scant space in between them. And as she presses her lips against Kara’s own, Lena Luthor thinks she no longer hates that morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who left kudos, comments and bookmarked this supercorptober collection! as someone who is new to writing for sc, it means a ton! <333 
> 
> also i now just realized that this is the second time i've written supercorp in a cafe. let's call this a total coincidence for the meantime.
> 
> let me know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	5. atlas: two

Kara’s still reeling from the blast, swaying on her feet as she desperately tries to catch the air that has been knocked out of her lungs when another horrible booming sound follows.

Her vision is suddenly filled with _red_ , the same red that Rao had once shone over Krypton in his light, only to be taken away from her before she even had the chance to love it wholly.

The same red that’s darker than her cape and the symbol on her chest, her family’s crest, and it somehow feels like defeat; feels like she’s thirteen once more and on the verge of losing every single thing she knows and loves all over again.

Around her there is carnage, a fallen army of _lexosuits_ she’s managed to best. But what for, Kara fails to see, when this carnage is all that she has left.

If only she had flown around faster, moved a second quicker—if only she hadn’t hesitated when Lex fell from the sky and into her hands, and she hadn’t felt an ache for the brother that Lena had once loved with her whole heart, she might still have everything.

Now Kara is left with nothing. Not even Lex. He slips away from Kara’s grasp the moment the first explosion shakes the earth beneath their feet, like the coward that Kara knows he is.

It's then that Kara’s heart sinks at the sight before her, the Girl of Steel falling down on her knees as she watches her worst nightmare come to life. The slabs of concrete that formerly housed part of the DEO headquarters rattle as she hits the ground, dust and rubble misting the still crackling fire like drizzling rain.

There’s a scream that tries to claw its way out of her throat, and the familiar heat humming at the back of her eyes. Kara has to fight the urge to let it out, to set the entire world ablaze and watch it burn until there’s nowhere left for Lex Luthor to hide.

But Kara knows that that’s not who she is, the emblem on her suit a constant reminder that presses a hefty weight on her chest, and leaves the weight of the world on her shoulders.

( _Like Atlas_ , Kara remembers Lena telling her once; _hears_ Lena saying he’s a god who just made his choice and picked a side, now forced to carry the heavens ever since.

How Kara wishes she can hear Lena’s voice again before her entire world turns dark.)

…

  
  


When she comes to, it’s to a cloudless sky littered with stars. She would’ve been terrified, remembering waking up to a similar view while she was suspended in time and space, if not for the soft, hushed voices that sounded like two of the most important people in her life.

There’s still the scent of burning concrete in the air, the metallic tang of melted steel filling the spaces in between. But what makes Kara jolt is a warm, familiar touch, and slicked back red hair that Kara’s never been more glad to lay her eyes on.

“A-Alex?”

“Oh my God, Kara!” Alex cries, a sob escaping her throat as she pulls her sister in a tight embrace.

Kara swears she feels the rumble of it in her own chest. “I thought—I thought—”

“We’re okay,” her sister mumbles in halting stutters. “We’re okay. We made it out.”

She feels Alex’s hand run all over her back; gentle, soothing touches that seep beyond her suit. There’s another warmth that joins it not long after, with Kelly’s soft smile serving as another ray of light in what Kara had thought was going to be a dark, lonely lifetime.

“Kelly,” Kara breathes out, relief coloring the lilt in her tone. “Golly, I’m so glad to see you.”

“I know. Alex tells me the same all the time,” Kelly replies; keeps her smile up and intact to stave off the dread that she can see lingering at the corners of Kara’s answering smile.

It’s both to hers and Alex’s relief that it works, when Kara giggles just as she’s pulling back from Alex’s hold. Though there’s still a hitch in her breath at the sight that greets her that Kelly doesn’t miss, a lump the size of Kara’s very own fist lodging itself on Kara’s throat.

(It tastes like _guilt_ , the bitter pill that Kara, for all the strength she has, can’t find the fortitude to swallow.)

“What happened?” Kara then asks—finally feels brave enough to want to know. Her eyes sweep around the once heavily-guarded place, half of it left standing and the other half reduced to a mix of ash and rubble.

Agents that used to congregate for their respective missions are now scattered around, most helping to clear Lex’s fallen army out, some resting on makeshift beds that Kara’s only now noticing that she’s also been laying on.

While at the top of the wreckage, J’onn stands, gesturing with his hands to direct the heavy lifting equipment Agent Vasquez is operating. Right next to him is Nia, hoisting the lighter slabs with her chain. 

Kara briefly wonders how long she’s been out as she stares at the massive piece of machinery, its twin, too, working nearby.

“You passed out,” she hears Alex speak. “We thought there was kryptonite, or that you’d solar flared but, your vitals are fine.” 

“We figured it was from exhaustion,” Kelly adds. Alex sends her a grateful smile.

“I thought—I thought—I thought you were,” Kara tries to say. But the strength inside of her balks at the mere idea, her chest heaving as it caves in under the weight.

Because Lex said that there was no time. Lex made sure to let her know with a triumphant grin and a menacing laugh that Kara didn’t have the time.

 _So much for being a Kryptonian god, Kara Zor-El_.

Kara turns still as _those_ moments rush back in, the crazed look in Lex’s eyes a memory Kara doesn’t think she’ll ever forget. 

“Yeah,” Alex confesses in the wake of her sister’s silence. “For a second there, we thought so too.”

“But it’s okay,” Kelly assures. “We’re okay. And we’re here for you, Kara.”

She knows that Kelly means well; means it in ways that Kara isn’t in anyway ready to unpack. Not here. Not now. Not when—

Kara jolts again, her head snapping up in a blur. She almost hurtles towards Alex in her haste to look around, scanning every inch of space that her superpower can reach. But she doesn’t find Lena, can’t see her anywhere, and she feels the pang of dread pierce her chest, dark tendrils wrapping around her heart. “Where’s—did Lena—where’s Lena?!”

Alex reaches a hand out, her fingers curling around Kara’s shoulder to push her sister back down. It’s a futile attempt, she knows, but there’s an unrestrained look in Kara’s eyes that Alex _aches_ to quell. “Hey, hey, Kara.”

“Alex—”

“She’s fine,” Alex mollifies. “She was on a warpath for a bit there, but she’s okay.” 

“W-what? Did she go after—”

“No. No! She’s not—” Alex wants to say, _wants_ to assure her. But she can’t lie to her sister too. Not now. Not ever. “She almost did. But we stopped her from taking one of the spare suits and unleashing hell on her brother. She saved us, you know. Her and Brainy.”

Kara’s heart swells then, pride and comfort and love slowly prying dread’s hold on her with their light. It becomes evident on her face when a soft smile spreads across her lips as she says, “Of course she did. She’s always saved all of us.”

Still, there is a tumultuous _need_ to know where Lena actually is, so she asks Alex again. “But where is she? I can’t see her, Alex.”

“She’s back at her lab,” her sister explains then. “Brainy’s keeping her busy.”

“With what?”

“Your new armor.”

Kara’s head whips around to follow the direction of the new voice; mumbles _native_ curses inside her head for being so occupied with Lena’s whereabouts that she’s forgotten _how_ she looks for her, how she makes sure she’s safe.

But it’s there, and it’s strong, and Kara swears she’s never heard something so beautiful, even including her own.

Lena’s heartbeat.

“Lena can tell you all about it,” Alex says. She pulls Kara for a parting hug and leaves her with a tender kiss on her forehead; entrusts her—and her heart—into Lena’s hands, knowing Lena will do everything to keep it and Kara safe. “I need to help J’onn round up all the agents. Make sure everyone’s safe and all accounted for.”

Kara croaks out a tired _okay_ , her exhausted smile earning her a soft pat on her cheek.

Then, it’s just Lena and her. And for all the fretting she’s done and she’s caused not even a while ago, Kara suddenly finds herself running out of words to say.

Ultimately, it’s Lena who speaks for both of them, Lena who ends up asking the very same thing Kara has been wanting to. “Are you okay?” She sits down on the ground ceremoniously, with a kind of regal grace that Kara’s always admired about her. “God, Kara, I was so worried. When I saw you lying unconscious, I almost—”

Lena trails off, looking away and busying herself with unlocking the steel briefcase she’s brought with her from her lab. Though Kara doesn’t really need her to continue. She can fill in the ensuing silence with what Alex has told her earlier.

“I’m not,” Kara whispers. Lena almost doesn’t catch it, but she _does_ , and it makes her stop. Her hands turn still, frozen above a silver band with a face that almost matches the watch Kara has given her. 

It’s smaller, from what Kara can see, and though there’s a part of her that wants to ask what it is—that part of her that’s forever interested in anything and everything Lena makes—Kara doesn’t feel like she’s ready to drop this conversation yet. “Rao, Lena, I thought you guys didn’t make it. I thought _you_ didn’t make it.”

(And now that she’s begun, Kara can’t seem to stop.)

“And it felt like losing Krypton all over again. But it was worse. So much worse.”

Because while Krypton may have had her childhood, it’s Kara’s past, something she’s been working hard on making peace with. But Kara can’t stand to lose—is _terrified_ to lose her _present_ , and a future she’s slowly and steadily building with the woman sitting in front of her.

So it’s _worse_. Kara’s heart constricts just merely thinking about it.

Lena’s breath hitches at the pain that finds its way through the cracks in Kara’s voice; _finds_ the same pain making its way through hers, too. “Kara.”

“Sorry,” Kara says, swallows to curb the urge to cry. “I know it isn’t exactly ideal to talk about it right now. But it just—you just—”

 _You came so close_ , goes unsaid. Kara doesn’t think she has the strength left to voice it out.

“Kara,” Lena repeats, softer this time. More tender, more kind. She takes Kara’s hand, tugging at her arm to pull her close. “Come here.”

Kara relents easily, stooping down so that her head can rest on Lena’s chest, her ear pressed right where her heart is beating steadily beneath.

“I’d never do _that_ to you,” she hears Lena say; hears the echo of it amidst the cadenced staccato that is Kara’s current melody.

“You can’t make promises like that,” Kara replies. She shifts on Lena’s hold, tipping her head up slightly so she can meet Lena’s gaze.

Lena just smiles, presses tender kisses on the crown of Kara’s head; then she says, “I know. But I also never make promises I can’t keep.”

And means it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this may be something a little different from the first four fills. let me know what you guys think! :)
> 
> you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	6. i can see you there with the city lights; fourteenth floor, pale blue eyes

“I have no idea how you’ve managed to convince me to do this.”

It’s the truth. Lena _genuinely_ doesn’t know.

It’s a winter night, the coldest one yet in National City according to dozens of weather reports, and the temperature that flashes on the widget in her phone’s home screen.

There is _absolutely_ no reason for Lena to do this, yet, she says _yes_ anyway.

Maybe it’s the way Kara’s lips purse into a pout when Lena asks _why_ , or the enthusiasm that she counters Lena’s puzzled frown with, _well why not_.

Or maybe it’s the playful glint in Kara’s eyes, her grin spright and her entire face _radiant_ as she stands under the dim lights of Lena’s kitchen, pulling two modest-sized mugs from the drawer under Lena’s island counter.

And then she’s dipping the scoop in the tub, the muscles in her arm flexing along with the movement, and Lena absolutely isn’t mesmerized _at all_. 

“Because you love me,” Kara says, shaking the scooper above one of the mugs and begrudgingly forcing Lena to avert her gaze.

Well, _that_ in itself is some kind of truth too, but it’s one that Lena isn’t willing to admit yet. At least not out loud, even in the safety of her very own apartment.

So Lena just hums in response, long and teasing, like she’s debating whether or not she does.

She _does_. Of course, she does. But Kara can’t know that, so she says, “Perhaps. But I’m not sure if it’s enough to make me eat ice cream when it’s five degrees below zero outside.”

“Really?” Kara asks, wide eyes looking confused. But the slight tilt of her head gives her away. “I don’t feel it.”

Lena rolls her eyes, grabs her Supergirl mug that she bought in irony but Kara _loved_ , and saunters towards her couch, lest she does something incredibly stupid. Like kissing her best friend right in the middle of her kitchen, just because her smile is soft, and tender, and warm, and she’s looking at Lena in a way that makes Lena feel like she’s really more than just her name.

…

  
  


(Sam had told her once that Kara has always looked at her like that. But there’s a part of her that just can’t seem to _see_ , that part of her who’s been trying hard not to find her happiness in the same places she lost it.

But she found Kara in the same place she’s lost her too, like she never really left; like she waited for Lena to make her way back, no matter how long it took.

Lena can’t help but _hope_ it means something.)

…

  
  


“God, my lips are freezing.”

Kara stills from scraping the very last dregs of mint chocolate chip inside her mug, her last bite somewhat forgotten as she watches Lena swipe her tongue over her bottom lip.

“Why’d I let you convince me, again?”

“Because you love me,” Kara repeats. But it’s softer, _breathless_. Like she means it in a completely platonic way, and yet, means something else—more.

Lena sets her mug on the coffee table and shifts on her seat, faces Kara just so she can tuck her toes beneath Kara’s jeans. “That won’t work all the time, you know,” she tries to say. Though there’s a flush on her cheeks that Kara _knows_ has nothing to do with the frosty concoction—but Kara doesn’t quite know what to do about that piece of knowledge—Lena’s eyes fixed on the miniscule bits of lint she picks off of her pants.

She hears the slightest clearing of throat, and the clink of Kara’s mug as she sets it right next to Lena’s. “But it did tonight,” Kara then teases. “I’ll work on another tomorrow. When we get burgers.”

“Oh, we are?” Lena asks. Her brow arches in a playful challenge, a movement that Kara’s eyes follow of their own accord until she catches herself and finds Lena smirking at her. “I’d have to check my calendar, I’m afraid.”

Kara groans out a _stop_ , but she laughs when Lena does. She pulls Lena’s feet from underneath her thighs, placing them over her lap instead; takes that freedom then to scoot closer towards her best friend, her hands sliding up to find the tight knots Lena often gets in her calves after spending a long day in her Louboutins.

(And if a breathless moan slips out of Lena’s mouth, Lena doesn’t think she can be blamed, not when Kara’s hands are _magic_ itself.)

“Anyway,” Kara presses on, pressing a thumb down on a particularly stubborn spot. “It’s burgers or Noonan’s. I’d be fine with anywhere as long as we don’t break our lunch streak.”

Lena’s breath hitches, an inopportune moment that Kara’s ears pick up on. Her fingers turn still, curled around Lena’s leg, and a look of worry quickly settles on her face. “Lena? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” rasps Lena; waves a hand to hide the way she surreptitiously clears her throat. “You were saying?”

Kara’s eyes squint, not quite believing it. “Is it your lips? Are they still cold?”

Her best friend nods, hesitant and slow. “A little, yes.”

“Want me to warm them up for you?”

“I’m sorry,” Lena says, fumbling for her next words. But seven Earth languages and Kryptonese only has her stammering out, “What?”

Kara then inches closer and leans forward— _closer_ that Lena’s almost afraid she’ll hear how Lena’s heart is hammering beneath her chest, like it wants to escape its cage and leap straight into Kara’s hands, screaming _it’s yours, it’s yours, right from the start_.

(Kara probably already _has_ , but Lena refuses to think about that now.)

Lena’s entire body stiffens as Kara lifts her hand, her chest heaving as if it’s the only way she knows how to stop her heart from falling out of its place.

Yet, in the end, it somehow does, when Kara’s hand sails past her head and into the thick blanket that’s draped over the couch arm, tugging at it until it slides down so she can wrap it around Lena’s shoulders.

Kara then opens her mouth to speak. Lena’s pretty sure she says _there, all warm_ , but her head is suddenly filled with static, and there’s a buzzing in her ears that she can’t seem to shake. 

(Later she’d try to find the perfect word to describe it, a cross between embarrassment and disappointment. She’d coin it, if she has to.)

Kara’s mouth is still moving, yet Lena’s still unable to hear a thing. Until Kara ducks her head to meet her eyes, and a warm touch presses on one of her knees, trying to shake it.

“Lena?”

Lena, in turn, blinks at her. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then, it’s like her mind kicks itself back up and her tongue suddenly remembers how to articulate. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Kara frowns in concern. She rubs Lena’s legs to offer comfort, and then asks, “I said I’m going to go make you hot coco. To keep you warm.”

“Oh.”

Lena’s face twists into something Kara can’t quite discern, a split second that makes Kara feel like she’s missing something significant.

“Did you not want me to make you hot coco?”

“I,” Lena starts to say; sighs and then looks away, directing her gaze towards the view in her tall glass windows. “I guess I had something else in mind.”

Kara’s mouth moves again as if to ask her what exactly does she mean, her head shaking in confusion as she tries to come up with _something else_.

Lena’s _it’s fine, don’t think about it_ doesn’t even register in her brain, her thoughts running a mile a minute, into memories and through snapshots of all their time together that she’s kept inside a proverbial box she named _love_. Until— 

_Oh_.

Lena watches a myriad of motions play out on Kara’s face, with a flushed red abruptly blooming on her cheeks almost making Lena worry if Kara’s even breathing.

But Kara settles on one, and it’s the kind of resolute look she’s only ever seen on Kara when she’s resolved to see through a decision she’s made till the very end.

“I want to take you out first. Before—before anything else.”

“Out?” Lena repeats.

“To dinner.”

“To dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Are you just going to repeat everything I say?”

“No,” Lena retorts, finally, _finally_ able to compose herself given what has transpired the last five minutes. But where once there’s only the brink of a heartbreak, there is now the hope that Lena has purposely held herself from giving into, and bright promises of tomorrow Lena can’t wait to embark on.

“But you might. Because I don’t kiss on the first date.”

Kara gasps. “No?! Why?!”

Lena smirks. “Well, why not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mayhaps i love oblivious kara 
> 
> let me know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	7. i want you, bless my soul

It’s during the third round of some modified version of Taboo Nia has tweaked that it comes up. Lena’s on a competitive streak—but when is she _not_ , really—completely resolved on guessing every single one of the words in their current stack in just one go.

She’s holding up the last card over her forehead, flashing it for everyone to see. But it’s Kara who she keeps her eyes on, Kara who’s practically launching out of her seat as she shouts, “My favorite color!”

“Yellow!” Lena yells right back, throwing her arms in the air that Kara has no problems meeting halfway in a triumphant high five.

(Like she can read her mind; bests J’onn and Sam so easily, and one of them actually has the ability to.)

Around them is a chorus of losing groans, Brainy’s disappointed grunt coupled with Nia’s protests, and Alex’s _what the ever loving fuck_ as she sends a chuckling Kelly a look of utter disbelief.

“I’m serious,” Alex hisses then once the noise starts to die down. She shouldn’t be surprised, really, because it’s pretty much a game night staple these days. But Alex also doesn’t take to losing graciously, so she says, “We’re switching partners for the next round.”

“We already did!” Kara refutes, pulling Lena right next to her on the two-seater couch. She throws an arm over Lena’s lap and leans forward, like she’s _genuinely_ going to fight whoever tries to snatch her favorite person in the entire universe away. “It’s not my fault I got Lena still when we did draw lots.”

Alex narrows her eyes, looking dangerous; holds a finger towards Kara’s direction to hammer in her point. “You cheated, and you know it.”

Kara gasps aptly, her mouth falling open at the accusation. Beside her, Lena just laughs, even more when she says, “I would never!”

(But she turns to Lena right after, hiding the wink she sends her way. And Lena has to press her cheek against Kara’s shoulder blade just so Alex—who’s watching them like a hawk, very befitting indeed for an agent of her stature—won’t catch the _truth_ that spreads all over her face.)

…

  
  


They take a _mandatory_ ten minute break, before Nia and Sam can start an actual, honest to goodness brawl in the middle of Lena’s living room and risk breaking every ornate, expensive fixture in sight as they fight over who gets to be Lena’s partner next.

Kara watches them from behind Lena’s kitchen counter, partly amused—especially when Nia yells _I can take you_ at Sam who’s towering above her in just a few inches—but more sulking at the idea that she’s being forced to forfeit her game night _Lena rights_.

“Oh for Pete’s sake, stop pouting,” Alex tells her when she passes her by on her way to Lena’s gigantic fridge, pulling another can of her favorite beer Lena makes sure to keep stock from one of the racks.

(And ultimately letting out a breathless scoff at the series of pictures tucked against the door. They’re mismatched, held together by even more mismatched magnets, but they tell a story that Alex has been _patiently_ waiting to hear.

But her sister and Lena _sure_ are taking their time.)

Kara helplessly throws a piece of chip at her. Alex snatches it off the air with her unoccupied hand—bless all the extra training she’s been taking—and flicks it in her mouth, her chin jutting out haughtily as she chews.

“It’s your fault,” Kara grumbles, plucks her own chip from the bowl she’s refilling and chomps on it bitterly. “If I lose tonight, I’m blaming you.”

“Kara, it’s literally just one round,” Alex states dryly. “The last one at that.”

Kara only huffs in response, picks another chip from the bowl—the largest one yet—and fills her mouth with it. 

“Speaking of. While we’re on the topic of you and your _bff_ forever,” Alex then segues, rounding the island. Kara follows her with a wary look, doesn’t even bother reminding her about the last _f_ in _bff_. They’ve talked about that one too many times already. “Since when did you have a favorite color?”

Kara’s forehead creases into a frown, throwing her sister a quizzical look as she swallows. Then, “What do you mean? I’ve always had one.”

But her voice shakes halfway through, and her hand flies to fix her glasses that are already perched securely above her nose—telltale signs that Alex will know from anywhere. So she throws Kara a look _back_ , one that screams _lie to me, I dare you_.

It becomes a standoff at this point, especially when Alex sets her beer down on the counter and crosses her arms above her chest, back ramrod straight, like she’s telling her sister that she can take all the time in the world.

Kara relents then; feels a curious stare burning the back of her head that she _knows_ is Lena’s. Besides, she knows she’d have to return to the game eventually, her excuse of _snack duty_ only lasting her for so long, and she’d probably have better chances of not getting an inquisition the sooner she shakes Alex off her back.

So she sighs in resignation, murmurs, “Fine.” She shuffles further into the kitchen to where the multitude of dip choices are, ambling back with an armful of ketchup, mustard, and something else fancy she can’t even pronounce.

But her eyes lock with Lena’s from across the room just as she opens her mouth to speak, the _hi_ Lena mouths at her coaxing a _hi back_ and a grin that makes her forget about Alex’s presence entirely.

“Kara,” Alex hisses, snapping her fingers in front of Kara’s face to snap her back to attention. “Focus.”

She sucks in a lungful of air, letting it out and through the generous dollop she squeezes on one of the bowls before turning to face Alex. “We were hanging out last night, and she told me she realized she didn’t know what my favorite color was.”

“Huh, didn’t you guys have that slam book thing,” Alex jests, earning her another chip that sails straight to her forehead.

“Alex!”

“I mean—”

“Anyway,” Kara cuts, curving them back before Alex can veer off to something else that she’s not at all prepared to touch on. “I told her it’s probably because it never really came up. Still, she wanted to know.”

“Okay,” Alex then says haltingly. She nods once, prompting for her sister to continue, and tries to follow where their conversation is actually going.

“But she also said she wanted to guess, so I said, _go ahead_ ,” Kara says. She lifts a hand, seemingly picking which dip to refill next, and takes that silence to pick her next words carefully too. But her hand ultimately lands on nothing, just resting back on the counter to fiddle with the bowls instead. “She guessed yellow in her first try, and my brain just said _yes_.”

“Why?”

Kara bites the inside of her cheek, closes her eyes and holds her breath as if it can stifle the impending blush that follows.

(It _doesn’t_.)

“Because she was wearing my yellow sweater, you know the one.”

Alex scoffs. “The one I told you to throw out because—and let me say this again—it’s _atrocious_?”

“Shut up! It’s soft!” Kara defends hotly. Though she does simmer down when Alex gestures a finger to circle them back again, knowing her sister’s tendency to digress. “But, yeah. She was wearing that, and I _liked_ that she was wearing that. Like she _glows_ , you know. Brighter than the sun. And I’ve lived under two.”

“Oh Kara,” Alex mumbles. She lifts a hand, running it on her sister’s back in comfort; then lets it rest over Kara’s shoulder, squeezing it tightly as she stoops down to whisper in Kara’s personal space. “I’m sorry but, that’s so gay.”

Kara can only groan in reply, buries her face in her palms in lieu of something she genuinely believes is more appropriate, like planting it on the very, very pristine surface of Lena’s island counter.

“But I guess that’s better than green or emerald,” Alex continues easily. She pats Kara’s shoulders twice in fake sympathy now, then, “At least it won’t have you waxing poetic about how it’s the color of her eyes, more beautiful and brighter than the Northern Lights.”

Kara twists her head, looking up at her sister with a hard glare. “I will punch you. And I will not hesitate.”

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t,” Kara concedes. “But I hate you.”

Alex snorts. “No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.”

…

  
  


But in the end, it’s never really Alex Kara has to worry about.

She’s stacking the plates on Lena’s coffee table so Lena can have a moment with Sam and Ruby as she sees them out, just coming right back from setting them down on the sink when Lena waltzes in with a coy grin on her face. 

Like she knows a secret Kara doesn’t.

Kara tries not to sweat at that, but the sly quirk of Lena’s lips makes it hard for her not to. And in Lena’s next words, Kara swears she blacks out. 

“So, yellow, huh?”

There’s really no point in pretending she has no idea what Lena means, when Lena’s looking at her with playful expectancy. Like she’s waiting for an explanation, but will never force Kara for one. So she says, “Who told you?”

“No one, really,” Lena supplies, much to Kara’s initial relief. Though she knows it’s not yet really over, judging by the glint in her warm, _warm_ eyes.

(And, _oh_ , she gets it now; _gets_ Alex now.)

“Nia has been trying to plead her case to the judge,” Lena continues, completely unaware of Kara’s sudden realization. “Something about you not having a favorite color?”

“Oh Rao.”

“But Ruby was very adamant on her decision.”

“ _Go-lly_.”

“She told Nia that if Aunt Lena says yellow, then it’s yellow. Sam didn’t know if she was going to be impressed or terrified.”

“I’d say terrified.”

“I agree,” Lena says. She walks towards her couch, patting on the space right next to her, and smiling real and wide this time when Kara follows. Then, “But is Aunt Lena really right?”

Kara takes her hand then, plays with her fingers until she gets enough courage to lace them together, and can’t help but marvel at the way their fingers fit in the spaces in between just perfectly.

Ever since that night, Kara hasn’t seen colors the same way, can’t see yellow without thinking of Lena; can live under Lena’s bright light for as long as Lena lets her. So she smiles at her, warm, and tender, and soft, and says, “She always is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for all the kudos and the lovely comments! this amount of support is so very heartwarming T_T
> 
> let me know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	8. ‘cause i love the way your green eyes mix with that malibu indigo

**Then**

Nestled at the heart of Venice Beach, _Jeremiah’s_ stands in its classic overtones and vintage glory. A hole in the wall along an elongated row of surf shops and other beach novelties. All bright and vibrant from its neon lights and the locals’ fondness for the place, where the smell of sea never fades despite the years. 

Its red and blue walls tell generations worth of stories. Part of it is Kara’s. Saved by Captain Jeremiah Danvers from a huge boating accident when she was thirteen, she was taken in without any hesitation on the Danvers’ part. A year and a half later, she joined them officially by name.

It’s now the sixth summer she’s spent with them, flying straight back from Yale for the rest of her break. Working at the diner has always been her summer tradition despite Eliza’s insistence—and Jeremiah’s back then—that she and her sister find better things to spend their longest break on.

But Kara _likes_ it, likes greeting familiar faces with a genial smile as they catch up on what they’ve missed from each others’ lives while Kara was away at university; and new ones with a friendly welcome, hoping the good food and classic ambiance will give them more than enough reason to come back. 

Today isn’t any different. Donning her apron for the first time since she’s come home still feels like some kind of welcoming ritual, like some sort of hero’s return after a long, gruelling war.

(Not unlike university, Kara can’t help but think.)

Eliza has gone home for the day, leaving Alex and her in charge until it’s time to close up. Afternoons are their busiest, more so in the summer, and their mom isn’t getting any younger. So they’ve sent her home for some well deserved rest, with promises of keeping the place intact for when she opens up the next day. 

Alex starts them off with some music she picks from their playlist of the day. A cacophony of sounds fills the still uncrowded space, Kara’s head moving along with the beat that comes on. Though her eyes sweep around every now and then, watching out for whoever might need her assistance.

Thankfully, it’s just two hours past noon and only a handful of regulars dining in. It leaves Kara a chance to meander around and re-acquaint herself with anything and everything new at the place after spending two full semesters away. 

She makes sure to catch up with Nia, too, the two of them moaning about their shared majors that Nia’s taking at UC Berkeley.

(She’s newer than Kara is, her family having moved down from Colorado to somewhere much more sunny and _welcoming_ , and had found her first set of friends at Jeremiah’s one stormy night.)

They only break apart when Officer J’onzz downs the last of his afternoon coffee and waves them goodbye. Kara makes Nia promise to tell her more about Nia’s new boyfriend, Querl, before heading towards the table the officer has just vacated to clean it up.

She’s currently wiping it dry when the tiny bell on their door chimes, a _be right there with you_ flying out of her mouth almost out of habit.

Kara quickly throws the rag back inside her apron’s farthest pocket, then swipes at the order pad she keeps by the front counter. But she freezes right on the spot, her feet rooting themselves on the ground as she clutches the pad over her chest.

Because in comes Lena Luthor.

 _Lena Luthor_ , with her long black hair trailing down to her shoulders, and her perfectly fallen locks perfectly framing her perfect, perfect face.

 _Lena Luthor_ , with her warm, warm, warm green eyes, twinkling as she throws a blinding smile towards her best friend, Sam Arias.

 _Lena Luthor_ , with her ever graceful movements, evident even when she’s merely unhooking her fancy-looking messenger bag off her shoulders to slide inside one of the booths by the tall glass windows.

 _Lena Luthor_ , who Kara has been hopelessly in love with the last four years.

Kara has known Lena since her care was officially transferred to Eliza and Jeremiah’s hands. They lived in the same block, with the Luthors’ mansion marking the end of their street.

But they ran in different circles, with Lena’s last name preceding her and her entire existence. While Kara preferred to stay in her own bubble, trying to fit into a completely new environment she really didn't know how to wade through.

It was like there was some sort of unspoken rule for their circles to never come across each other. They never even went to the same high school. Kara and Alex chose Venice High over some private academy that Kara had never even heard of, the same exact one that Lena happened to be going to at that time.

(But that never meant she didn’t see Lena. She _always_ sees Lena.)

It only ever touched once, in what Kara can only— _sadly_ —classify as _barely_ ; a short moment Kara’s quite sure Lena doesn’t even remember. It was an animal shelter drive that Kara had volunteered at, and Lena happened to be passing by, absolutely enamoured with the five month old rescue golden retriever squirming in Kara’s arms.

But she was all smiles then, the beautiful melody of her laugh ringing in Kara’s ears as the puppy yipped and tried to lick Lena’s face. 

(And Kara swears if she closes her eyes, she can still hear it; can still see the imagery as vivid as the day it happened.

 _What’s his name_ , Lena had asked. To which Kara replied, _Trooper, because he is one_.)

“Hey, K!” A voice shakes her from her _Lena Luthor-_ induced stupor. Her brain manages to grasp that it’s Nia, and Kara hopes she isn’t wearing a dumb, lovestruck look on her face or her friend will never let her live it down.

“Sorry, what?” She manages to say. But is that her voice shaking? “What was that?”

“Alex has been calling your name ten zillion times.” Nia only throws her a quizzical look at first. But she also happens to glance towards the booth Lena has just slipped in with Sam, and her puzzlement quickly turns into a teasing grin. “Ah. Pretty girl next to a pretty girl. But which one?”

Nia hums, taps a finger on her chin while her eyes dart between the two girls at the booth _unabashedly_ , much to Kara’s horror.

Kara screws her eyes shut then, curbing the urge to hide her entire _everything_ behind the easel that holds their menu board. “Nia.”

But there’s a gasp next, like Nia’s suddenly found the answer to her question, and it’s what prompts Kara to open her eyes.

“I’m calling the green eyes and that pretty smile because she seems your type.”

“Please stop,” Kara pleads, her voice in a whisper because heaven forbid, Lena overhears and Kara will probably spend the rest of her young life locked in her dorm closet back in Yale.

“You know I’d never,” Nia singsongs. “But I think they’re about ready to order, so up you go to booth three.”

“Okay,” Kara says; repeats it two more times. But her voice trembles each time a word manages to make it out, made even worse when Nia says, “Breathe, Kara. It’s not like you’re meeting your future wife or anything.”

“Nia! You’re not exactly helping,” Kara hisses, but feels an ensuing guilt at the very next second even though Nia is watching her with nothing but pure amusement. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

Nia taps her behind twice in what Kara feels like is a _there, there_ gesture. A third comes, but it’s only to push her towards the direction of Sam and Lena’s booth. “Go!”

She chances a glance at the table in question first, and swallows visibly. The smile is gone from Lena’s face, replaced with a furrow in her brow as she scribbles down on the moleskine notebook she’s swapped the diner menu with. While Sam draws circles on what Kara thinks is a blueprint. “Yeah, okay.”

The tip of Lena’s tongue is peeking out her mouth, caught in between her teeth; and the sight of it has Kara exhaling jagged breaths.

Five heartbeats, a raised chin, and squared shoulders later, Kara _finally_ finds the courage to approach the table with steady steps, clearing her throat before she says, “Hi. Are we ready to order?”

Lena snaps her head up, jumping slightly in surprise. (Kara would’ve apologized, but her own tongue is suddenly glued to the roof of her mouth.)

“Hi,” greets Lena, her affable smile back in place. “Sorry, we weren’t really paying attention. Have you been waiting long?”

Kara shakes her head. She drops her hands to her sides, and then carefully rests the tips of her fingers at the menu already perched on the table that both Lena and Sam have seemingly forgotten. She slides it closer to them. “I can just come back if you need more time?”

“Oh, no, no need,” it’s Sam who answers. “We’ll just go take a quick look. Besides, I think my friend here will appreciate the sudden inspiration.”

Kara grows confused at that, more so when Sam jumps and yelps, rubbing at her shin. But Lena’s smiling at her again, and all Kara’s brain can come up with is, “O-okay.”

The silence that blankets them shifts into one of those moments when Kara becomes hyper aware of _everything_ , even as she tries genuinely hard not to stare at Lena. Like the hairs at the back of her neck standing, her skin prickling as the goosebumps crawl all over her; the way her heart hammers in her chest and echoes as loud as the ocean waves in her ears. 

From behind her, she can even hear Nia tell Alex to turn the volume of the speakers up, singing along to the current song playing in her surprisingly sweet voice, _you are my favorite everything; been telling you that since twenty fifteen_.

And then, Lena finally looks up and says, “I’ll have the clubhouse sandwich, please. And a glass of lemonade.”

Sam echoes almost the same order, save for the lemonade that she switches with a strawberry milkshake

It snaps Kara back to attention, coming up with a response in time. (Thankfully before it becomes obvious that she hasn’t exactly been paying any for the past few minutes). “Would that be all?”

Lena throws Sam a look to ask; nods at Kara when Sam does. Then, she says, _thank you, Kara_ without trailing her eyes away from Kara’s own. 

Yet it’s the smile that shoots through Kara’s system like a shock.

Because she’s not wearing any name tag, and _yet_ , Lena Luthor _knows_ her name. 

Kara swears she feels all her limbs just turned into jelly.

…

  
  


Kara hums under her breath as she eagerly flips the door sign to _Closed_. It’s been a busy day, being that it’s the third week of summer, and she’s so tired that she almost wishes the diner won’t open tomorrow.

She swears she can hear her bed calling her name. But Alex, Nia and her still have to clean up and close up shop.

“Okay,” she calls over her shoulder to Alex who’s busy drying the glasses with a dish rag. “It’s officially closing time.”

“If you sing that song one more time, Kara, I swear to God,” the older girl quickly cuts with a glare. “You’ll never see your Discman ever again.”

From her spot by the sink, Nia teases, “Only you would own a Discman these days. In an era where iPods exist.”

“There is no need, _Alex_. Calm down.” Kara defends. “Besides, it’s a good song.”

And to Nia she _yells_ , so that her words will make it through the kitchen. “And there is absolutely nothing wrong with owning a Discman. I’ll have you know.”

“It is, when you hear it for like, the first two times,” Alex counters. “But _every_ night? Not so much.”

Kara can’t help but snicker at the pinched look on Alex’s face; and just to further piss Alex off, she starts singing purposely off key, “Closing time, every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.”

Alex, in turn, balls the dish rag and hurls it at her, full force. She drops her weight against the counter as she watches it hit Kara squarely in the face, crossing her arms over her chest smugly. “Serves you right.” 

Kara grimaces at the feeling of the damp rag against her cheeks. She pulls it off of her, then lobs it back to Alex. But the other girl moves almost inhumanly fast, successfully ducking out of the rag’s way.

Kara _hmphs_. Alex spreads her arms in response, her hands motioning for Kara to _bring_ _it_.

Kara then turns around, looking for something—that isn’t a condiment dispenser or a tissue holder, of course—to throw at Alex again. It’s when she spots a notebook lying on the booth at the innermost corner of the diner. Probably left by a customer, she supposes.

She picks up the notebook—no, _the_ moleskine notebook that Kara remembers Lena writing on once and she feels her heart suddenly turn over beneath her chest. 

Its covers are a little tattered, clearly a sign of it being often used. She scans the front cover, hoping for any signs of ownership (just to be sure that it _is_ Lena’s), and flips it to its back when she finds none. 

There, she finds _LKL_ written at the bottom right corner.

Kara looks over her shoulder then, says, “It’s Lena’s.”

Alex arches a brow. “How’d you know? And you know Lena Luthor?”

“Who doesn’t know her?” Kara counters, then adds quickly, to leave no room for Alex to ask _how_ she knew Lena. “And yes, she did come in earlier. I was the one who took her order.”

Kara doesn’t say that Lena has stayed a while, and that she knows this only because she couldn’t stop herself from sneaking glances at the girl’s direction the entire time she sat in table five. 

Instead, Kara holds the notebook up to point at the three letters scrawled elegantly.

“Well.” A shrug rolls off of Alex’s shoulders. “I guess you’re right. Hold on to it for now. She’ll probably come back for it soon.”

“Sure,” Kara assures. She waves a nonchalant hand, stifling the smile that’s threatening to break out of her as she tucks the notebook under her arm.

…

  
  


Kara spends the rest of her night in the room she shares with Alex, sprawled on the tall bed and her knees bent by the edge with only her toes touching the floor.

She stares at the cover of Lena’s notebook hovering above her face, admittedly tempted to take a quick look so that she could see a glimpse of Lena’s _brilliant_ mind.

(Because Lena is _clever_ , an actual genius, even; she’s heard quite a few times in passing. Even Alex has said the same thing when she asked about Lena back when she was fairly new to the neighborhood and was trying to take a grasp of things.)

But Kara _doesn’t_. She has a high regard for privacy, since she values hers probably as much as Lena does with her notebook.

So Kara rolls out of bed, places Lena’s notebook by the small bookshelf—on top of Alex’s ample collection of Nancy Drew books—and goes to sleep.

…

  
  


She’s buzzing with some kind of energy—that she’d never admit are nerves—which only grows when four thirty comes; the usual time that Lena comes to the diner.

It’s a slow day, which is both a good thing and a bad thing. They’re lacking one as Nia has to miss her shift with Querl finally able to fly down to visit, though the _bad thing_ is mostly due to minimal customers that can serve as Kara’s form of distraction.

By four fifteen, the door’s opening with a chime. Kara watches it expectantly, her eyes following the gracious, almost regal way Lena walks to her usual booth. 

She chooses to slide in on the cushioned seat that’s facing the counter. _The perfect view_ , _really_ , Kara can’t help but think.

Her hair is up in a bun, and her perfect, perfect face is clear of the perfect locks that usually frame it. But it’s only then that Kara notices the sullen look on Lena’s features.

Yet the hammering in her chest never really stops. It only grows when a furrow etches deep in Lena’s brows, and she purses her lips as if she’s trying hard to remember something.

Kara ducks under the counter to retrieve the moleskine notebook, feeling the air grow heavy at the tightening in her chest. But _maybe_ , that’s just her.

She spends a longer time sitting on her knees, alternating between getting her heart back to its regular beats and thinking of ways to return the notebook to Lena. But it sends her heart racing again; it’s a cycle. 

Too lost in her thoughts, Kara doesn’t really notice Alex walking to a stop behind her. 

“Why are you being weird?” Her sister asks, snapping Kara back to attention.

Kara just throws her own question in response. “I am?”

Alex cocks her head to the side, arching one brow. “Just get it over with, Kara.”

“I was just getting to it, Alex.”

“Lena’s actually really nice. No need to fret.”

Kara has to stop herself from twisting around as she feigns disinterest. So when she asks, _and you know this, how_ , it’s in the blandest tone she can muster.

“I grew up here, Kara. I was bound to share a camp with her, or two.”

“You know her?”

“Well, not know _know_ ,” Alex clears up. “She’s too… nerdy for my taste.”

Kara frowns at that, her responses kicking in before she even gets the chance to stop it. “Hey, you told me the same thing!”

“It was never an insult, relax.”

She squints at her sister in suspicion, but Alex’s words repeat themselves in her head. Until one thought strikes her. “Wait, how come I didn’t know that you shared classes with her?”

It’s Alex who frowns this time. “Why would you need to know?”

“Well,” Kara lowers her head and fakes a cough just so Alex won’t see the faint red coloring her cheeks. “I just—you usually tell me stuff, like, you know about your classes. And stuff.”

“It was like grade school, Kara. There’s hardly anything to tell.”

Kara sighs, all her hopes of finding out more about Lena disappearing like the air she’s breathed out. Though, she figures she can’t really ask Alex for details, because Alex would _know_ right away. She’s like a wolf when it comes to things like secret crushes and unrequited feelings.

“So she’s nice?” Kara asks; rolls her shoulder, going for a casual tone.

“She won’t bite, that’s for sure.”

“Right.” Kara nods, and then sucks in air, filling her lungs.

“Besides, you’re just going to return something to her, not ask her out on a date or anything.”

 _Something_ gets caught in Kara’s throat upon hearing Alex’s afterthought, probably her heart because Alex can’t be any more closer to the truth than she is now.

She coughs and sputters, and heaves deep breaths. She swears she feels her left lung collapse or _something_.

Alex, in turn, looks at her with narrowed eyes. Kara suspects that she’s starting to get an inkling, and so she shoots up to her feet, determined to throw Alex off of her building hunch.

She walks towards Lena’s table as normal as she can, or at least how one would walk towards someone who _isn’t_ the girl that has been plaguing their dreams for four years and counting. 

Lena is all by herself—so far, at least; for that, Kara is thankful. She’s staring at the window, seemingly waiting for someone, so she doesn’t see Kara coming. 

Not that Kara would want her to. _Not_ when her legs are turning to jelly so fast, and she’s tripping over her shoes left and right. 

To shake off at least some of the embarrassment, and because she can honestly feel Alex’s suspecting stares boring at the back of her head, she stoops down, pretending to dust off her pristine sneakers. 

And then, she’s up again. But when she _does_ reach the table, it’s her voice that refuses to cooperate. The simple, nonchalant _hi, Lena, right? I think this belongs to you_ that she’s practiced over and over in her head turns to a croaked “Uh, hey.”

Lena turns at the sound of her voice, then, rasps. “Hey.”

(How Kara wishes she _didn’t_.)

“I think,” Kara swallows. She flattens her palm against her jeans-covered thigh to stop it from shaking, and lifts the other that is clutching the notebook to show it to Lena. “This is yours?”

Green eyes sparkle at the sight, the relief evident in Lena’s answering smile. “Yes! I’ve been looking for it since last night!”

“You left it yesterday and…“ Kara gestures helplessly. “I found it.”

“Oh.” Lena bites on her lower lip, says, “Thank you for returning it.”

“It’s nothing,” answers Kara, hoping her smile doesn’t turn out to be a grimace. And, _God_ , she hopes Lena doesn’t notice how her lower lip—her everything, really—is trembling. “I didn’t look, if you must know.”

Lena’s sigh of relief is even bigger this time, making it quite obvious that there’s something inside that Lena doesn’t want to be seen. “Really, thank you, Kara.”

Kara wants to say, _you can thank me over a glass of chocolate milkshake_ , but the bell is chiming and there’s a gaggle of people shouting Lena’s name from somewhere behind her, their shoes squeaking against the tiled floor.

Sam’s voice is on top of it all. “Lena, there you are! Jack’s been looking all over for you.”

She takes a step back to signal that she's leaving—she doesn’t think she has it in her to deal with whoever Jack is at any given day—and leaves the table with a stiff nod and a tight smile she sends Lena. 

But Lena’s grateful smile is permanently ingrained in her head. For now, it’s enough. 

…

  
  


(The next day she gets a package dropped by the diner’s counter that Alex hands her. A moleskine _planner_ , the cover looking so familiar it sends Kara’s heart racing again.

Inside, prefacing it are ten digits in the neatest scrawl Kara has ever seen, and the words _hope you can squeeze me in sometime, let me know when_ staring back at her.

She stares back so hard she’s not sure how she didn’t pass out.)

…

  
  


**Now**

“Is that really the first thing you pick to unpack?”

“What?”

“You didn’t even bother with your— _our_ clothes. No, of course, _that_ will take precedence.”

“I’ll take care of those later,” Kara waves in dismissal. “Just, let me put this out of the way and to safety first, and I’ll help with the rest. I promise.”

Lena crosses her arms over her chest, unamused.

“This is like, my most precious treasure, okay? Like, the kind of _precious_ that if there’s a fire—and golly, we better make sure that never happens—but yeah, if there is a fire, this is the first thing I’d save.”

“Not even your wife? Our daughter?”

“I said _thing_ , not person. And don’t be ridiculous. You designed our new house like a fortress.”

Lena stares at the moleskine planner again. She never really did get why Kara values it so much, and she never really asked. But, well, no better time than the present, she supposes. “Is it because it’s your first ever planner?”

“Huh? What?” Kara turns, looking at her wife over her shoulder.

“The reason why it’s your most _precious_ treasure?”

Kara pulls at her sleeve and uses it to wipe the finger prints off the glass worn leather cover. Chuckling, she pulls herself up, facing Lena to answer her question. “No, silly. That’s not it.”

“Why then?”

“You gave it to me, remember?.”

“And?”

“I don’t know,” Kara shrugs. “I guess, it kinda meant forever to my teenage self back then. I didn’t really care if we stuck to being friends. I just wanted you to be part of my life, like, permanently.”

“Darling, I love you,” Lena can’t help but coo. She cups her wife’s cheek, pulling her down for the softest kiss and smiling against Kara’s lips at Kara’s _I love you too_. “But I wrote my number down, and was just short of saying _call me_. What part of that says _friends_ , exactly?”

“I didn’t know, okay!” Kara huffs in defense. Though it quickly melts at the kiss Lena steals. “I didn’t want to assume.”

“Maybe I should’ve just gone with that. It would’ve saved us _years_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea how this prompt grew longer than planned, and probably even unrelated to "beach" which i guess i mentioned once or twice lmao. here's to hoping i can write something closer to the day 9 prompt haha
> 
> also, i know, third time they're in the same setting, even though it's a diner this time lol. can i still claim co-incidence? lmao
> 
> let me know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	9. lonely is her favorite place to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to everyone who left kudos and comments <333333 i'm having fun writing these, and the kudos/comments are def lovely bonuses <3333

“Darling, I’m in a crossword puzzle.”

Spoon in her mouth, Kara shuffles on the couch, looking over the doorway where Lena is walking in post-work. There’s a frown on her face that Kara’s already gearing up to work against, fully prepared to punch people straight to space if it means Lena’s happy and safe. There will be time for ice cream later.

But when Lena looks up from the folded newspaper clutched in her hands—that Kara’s only now noticing—it isn’t a _frown_ per se. Kara senses bewilderment more than a volatile rise in Lena’s temper, like Lena’s suspended in some state of disbelief.

Still, Kara’s impulses scream _protect, protect, protect_. So she super speeds her way to their kitchen, depositing the tub of imported ice cream that Lena keeps solely for her back into the freezer; leaves the spoon by their sink.

She’s on Lena’s side in a blink. Hasty enough that Lena would’ve jumped in surprise when her chin hovers above Lena’s shoulder, if not for having gotten so used to Kara’s penchant for sudden bursts in movements within a confined space.

“What’s up? What’s wrong?” Kara asks. Her arm wraps around Lena’s waist in both a comforting touch— _I’m here, I’m here_ —and a protective stance— _I’ll protect you, always_. While the other cradles Lena’s jaw, gentle fingers tipping Lena’s head up so she can meet Lena’s eyes. “Who is it? Who am I gonna punch?”

“Hi, honey,” Lena greets in lieu of an answer. It doesn’t really ease Kara’s concern, so she inches closer, nosing her way to Kara’s space for an _I’ve had a long day, and I missed you_ kiss—her proper hello. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just—”

Lena trails off, glancing down at the newspaper once more. Kara follows her gaze, and it’s at the end of it that she sees the paper folded in on the day’s crossword.

“I’m in a crossword puzzle,” Lena repeats; points at the set of boxes where she has filled in the letters that spell her last name in her neat print.

Kara checks the number to find the corresponding clue, her eyes skimming towards the bundle of words written just below; tries to find what it is exactly that’s penned for _seven down_ that has her _zhao_ so nonplussed.

It’s right under _4: cloud that is the home of comets_. (Lena’s answered that, too, Kara’s noticed.)

“Seven,” she starts to read for them both. “Last name of CEO billionaire and philanthropist. Brilliant Nobel Prize winner and considered the Woman of Modern Technology. Oh, it _is_ you, babe! That’s so cool!”

“It is,” Lena agrees, albeit much more calmer than Kara’s enthusiasm she can’t seem to share. “I suppose.”

Because there’s a tightness in her throat that she never really sees coming as she reads the clue again, pricking heat at the back of her eyes. A part of her can’t help but feel utterly foolish for getting emotional over something so mundane, though Lena can’t quite explain _why_ she is, either.

It takes the lightest sniffle to clue Kara in on her thoughts—she can’t even bear to call it a _turmoil_ , with how banal of a matter it just seems to be— Kara’s concerned gaze falling on her once more.

“Hey,” Kara whispers. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I—” Lena tries again. But she sees the frown that dawns on Kara’s face, doesn’t like that she’s the one who put it there so she settles for the truth. “I’m not sure, either.”

(And she isn’t, _at all_. It was a good thing. A fun, _cool_ thing even, in Kara’s own words. So Lena doesn’t really know why she feels choked up.

But, then, maybe that’s exactly _why_. 

Her last name in the papers is a common occurrence; an unfortunate happenstance that comes with her family’s history. Her last name being dragged in the mud for the very same history she’s still trying to right even more so. 

But _this_ kind of graciousness is incredibly rare, where _Luthor_ doesn’t spell murder and genocide.

Where _Luthor_ isn’t followed by vitriol and hate.

Where _Luthor_ means _her_ —a force of good in humankind that’s more than just her last name. 

And Lena isn’t used to that type of kindness. At least not from the same people who spew vicious words that ring nothing true about her at all.

Maybe, _that_ is the why.)

Kara soothes her with gentle shushes, running a strong, steady hand all over her back. She plucks the newspaper from Lena’s grasp, chucks it on the coffee table for safekeeping before speaking softly on Lena’s ear. “Hold on to me, baby.”

She hooks an arm under Lena’s knees when she feels Lena’s arms wrap around her neck, floating them gently towards the couch; cradles Lena on her lap as she slips Lena’s heels off of her feet.

Kara lets her have that moment of reprieve, where they both sit in silence and the warmth of Kara’s touch is her only form of utterance. And it’s only when Lena pulls back and away from the crook of Kara’s neck—her safe place—does Kara open her mouth to ask. “Lena, what’s wrong?”

She touches her forehead against Lena’s once, pressing a lingering kiss on her temple. But she’s completely resolved to wait for her to speak.

“I—” Lena begins to say, albeit haltingly. She feels a little less unsteady now that she’s in Kara’s arms, though there’s still a part of her that can’t quite make sense of what she’s feeling—or wants to feel. “I suppose I just wasn’t used to it. So it caught me by complete surprise.”

“Used to what?” Kara asks, her soft tone and gentle, and admittedly a little afraid to push Lena to something more than she can handle. Not when Lena’s still in the process of undoing every single misguided notion of love and family that the Luthors have instilled in her.

“Kindness,” Lena confesses. She unlaces her fingers locked on the back of Kara’s neck, sliding a hand down until her palm is pressed against Kara’s chest, right where the heart of her emblem lies. “I know how to act, what to say, when it’s hateful words that are being thrown at me. But kindness?”

Kara gives her a watery smile then, the glimmer in her eyes telling words Lena’s heard over and over, but would never get tired of hearing, still. _You’re the best person I know, and you deserve nothing but all the good things in this universe and the next_.

“How about _we_ start small,” Kara then says. She takes the hand that’s on her chest, brushing her lips against Lena’s knuckles. “Like, maybe we can send the puzzle maker a small note saying that coffee’s on us if we ever come across them.”

Lena laughs softly at that, but she does agree. “But do we know who to send the note to?”

“No, but,” answers Kara, grinning wider now, _lighter_ , sensing that they’ve reached their threshold of heavy matters for the night. “I’m sure our friend Supergirl can ask around.”

She’s rewarded with another of Lena’s soft laughter—her favorite sound in all of the Earths, next to Lena’s heartbeat. “Oh, but darling,” Lena then says as it peters. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

The girl beneath her snorts, rolling her eyes playfully. “I’m sure she can be convinced.”

“Would you know how?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Kara answers with a chuckle. She lifts Lena off of her lap, depositing her gently on the vacant space right next to her. The noise Lena makes in protest makes her laughter grow, but it’s still an early night and there’s dinner and ice cream they need to get to. So, she tells Lena, “I’ll go make you dinner, then draw you a bath. I think there’s still some red left from last night, too.”

“Kara, you don’t have to—”

But Kara merely cuts her off with a solid kiss, Kara’s hands cupping her cheeks to pin her right where Kara wants her to be. Then, she says, “I _want_ to. Please, Lena, let me do these things for you?”

Lena doesn’t think she’s even capable of saying no to that.

…

  
  


Two days after, she steps inside her office and she’s welcomed by a brand new addition to her growing collection of framed memories on her desk. It’s the same crossword puzzle, cut out in a perfect square and looking more preserved and pristine inside its white-bordered frame.

But what makes it better is her last name spelled out in boxes in Kara’s loopy scrawl, with the rest of the puzzle left purposely unanswered. 

Like nothing else matters but Lena Luthor.

…

  
  


A week after, it’s Kara who’s walking in with a newspaper in hand, and a frown on her face that Lena finds curious.

“Babe, you’re in a crossword puzzle again.”

Lena looks up from the book she’s reading on, her interest clearly piqued. “Really?”

Kara nods; throws her messenger bag on the vacant space in the lone couch before taking her place right next to Lena.

“You don’t look particularly happy,” Lena observes. Her eyes narrow in suspicion, though a part of her already feels disheartened at the idea that their puzzle maker may have had a change of heart. She’s admittedly a little hesitant to ask, but she does, anyway. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“No, no,” Kara quickly assuages, and Lena lets out a breath of relief she hasn’t even noticed she’s held in. “It’s not bad.”

“Okay,” says Lena, growing even more confused as she watches the crease on Kara’s forehead etch deeper. “But why do you look like that one time Nia stole your last piece of potsticker?”

Kara’s head shoots up to send the other woman an accusing glare. “You know that’s a very painful memory! Why would you bring that up?”

“Because you refuse to tell me why you have,” Lena begins; leans forward to press her thumb on the creases in between Kara’s brows. “This,” she continues, rubbing on the spot until she feels it smoothen beneath the pad of her finger.

Kara kisses her in gratitude then, and yet she’s the one left in a daze when Lena pulls away. But her frown returns as she glances down on the puzzle again, as if she’s remembering something unpleasant. She turns to Lena once more, and speaks. “This puzzle maker, I don’t think I like them anymore.”

“Just read the clue to me, Kara,” Lena sighs, itching to get it over with. “I can take it.”

“I told you, it’s nothing bad,” Kara appeases, kissing Lena again.

“So then, read it, darling.”

“Fine,” Kara huffs. She flaps the paper and raises it to level with her face, opening her mouth to read the clue out loud. “Three, across. First name of _beautiful_ CEO billionaire and philanthropist. A constant entry in the top three of the Top Ten List of the Hottest CEOs since twenty fourteen.”

Kara then lowers the paper down, huffing even more. “I know we sent them a note already, but maybe Supergirl really should pay them a visit.”

“She will _not_ ,” Lena quashes in between her amused chuckles. She flips her book to a close and slides it on the coffee table, shifting on the couch so that she can plop down on Kara’s lap in a straddle.

“I’m not gonna punch them or anything,” Kara reasons. “We’re just going to have some words. You know how much I love words. Maybe remind them a little who really is Lena Luthor’s number one fan.”

“Ah, but you see,” Lena says. Her lips twist into a coy smile. “That’s always been Kara Danvers. Are you telling me Supergirl should have a word with you instead?”

“Well—”

“Because,” Lena presses on, cutting Kara off before she can even come up with another witty remark. “I’d rather we fool around instead. But if you really want to fight over who my number one fan really is, who am I to stop that?”

“Words?” Kara then says; shakes her head hard that her glasses bobble on her face. “I don’t know. I suddenly can’t words.”

Lena laughs, swallows the rest of Kara’s silliness with a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i managed to write something close(r) to the prompt this time HAHA fingers crossed lmao
> 
> let me know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	10. we do what we want to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys once again for the kudos and the lovely comments! <333333

Kara stumbles through the conversation quite spectacularly. Like that one time she fell on her behind while she was learning how to skate, and the tip of Alex’s blade clipped hers on accident. The next thing Kara knew, her feet were on the air instead of over the ice, and she was careening back until she was staring at the cloudless blue sky.

She’s better now, _infinitely_. Being the Girl of Steel for as long as she can remember has rewarded her with better reflexes and sharper senses. Still, there are things Kara will always find difficult to navigate through. Like the many unknown aspects of the Multiverse before she goes jumping head first into one of Barry’s portals. Or the admittedly outdated schematics of most of the technology here on this earth that aren’t her wife’s; said wife’s mood swings back when she was pregnant. And now, this conversation she’s sharing with her daughter who has long given up on trying to learn how to skate.

It was almost the same as the previous year, with little Ellie being far more interested in building snowmen that were twice her size. But she’s a year older now, Kara thinks, surely Olaf and his brothers are things of the past, and gliding on thick, safe ice would be the _in_ thing.

( _Definitely_ safe. Kara’s made sure of that. Her wife has double checked it. Triple, _really_ , with one of L-Corp’s brand new drones running scans over the lake in five minute intervals just to ensure that no part is thawing any time soon.)

 _Like Disney, remember_ , Kara has even argued. 

Yet, she couldn’t be more wrong.

She’s managed to convince her daughter to get on her skates, got her bundled up in her very cute gray coat—unreasonably expensive too, but her wife lives by an oath that there’s no right price for good things—with a knitted bobble hat to match, one that she got from Eliza two Hannukahs ago.

Her mittens are on, and she’s holding on excitedly to her Jeju’s hand as they make their way to the frozen lake that prefaces their bright modern lakehouse. They’ve left Mommy by the shore, with assurances to them both that she’s perfectly content to watch them while she holds on to their fancy thermoses filled with hot choco.

With that, and a kiss from her wife to warm her up, Kara makes their trek towards the makeshift rink. She sets Ellie down on the ice, taking both of her hands to guide her movements. Ellie, in turn, giggles at every minute slide her tiny skates make, preening under the proud smile Kara directs at her, and her Mommy’s praises that she can pick out from the bank, thanks to her half-Kryptonian genes.

It’s a good system they’ve got going. Kara can see her daughter skating on her own perhaps forty five minutes from now, an hour tops. Maybe in wider loops, too. So Kara leads them down further, Ellie’s giggles growing as they pick up a little speed and the cool wind hits her face.

But Alexandra Elise is _also_ her mother’s daughter, and Lena’s DNA is in her blood. A force of nature in her own right, armed with a five-year old’s seemingly unending curiosity about _everything_.

It starts with a simple question, as they glide towards the part of the lake where the water is just more turquoise and shines green, and the frozen ice is just a little more crystal. “Jeju,” Ellie says, tugging at Kara’s hand to signal for them to take a pause. “Why’s the ice green?”

“Oh,” Kara halts, glancing down at the frosted spot before looking back at her daughter. “It’s because the water was already green when it turned to ice.”

Ellie tilts her head, squinting against the ray of sunlight that hits her when she gazes up at her mom with curious eyes. “How come?”

She looks so much like Lena like _that_ , and Kara has to take a split second to curb the urge to scoop her daughter up so she can shower her with kisses, and all the love and affection Kara can give. (She has _so much_.) “Bodies of water have their own colors,” Kara begins to explain. “Remember that river when we went to Gotham to surprise Mommy?”

“The one that smells yucky?”

“Yeah.” Kara chuckles. “It was brown right? Then there’s the sea in Santorini. From last year. Remember that?”

“It was blue!” Her daughter answers. “Like our pool!”

“Yes,” Kara affirms, grinning. She tugs Ellie’s hat down to fix it back into place. “You’re so smart.”

Ellie preens again, flashing a beaming smile at her mom that has Kara melting right on the spot. It’s Kara’s smile, it’s _her_ smile and Lena’s dimples, and it’s one of the very few things that makes Kara weak in ways that Kryptonite will never do.

“I like it,” Ellie then says. She pulls one of her hands from Kara’s hold and then stoops down, patting the frozen surface right on the shade she particularly likes. “I like it, Jeju!”

“It is a pretty color,” Kara agrees easily. Definitely _not_ prettier than her wife’s eyes—by a _mile_ ; lightyears even—but Kara can see it coming close second.

“Can we take it home?”

“T-take it home?”

Ellie nods eagerly. There’s a gleam in her eyes that reminds Kara of her and her wife, of the way Lena’s eyes glint when she’s on the brink of breaking through some problem she’s been slaving off for weeks; and hers, as she chases down lead after lead to get to the truth of her stories.

It’s a look that Kara doesn’t really have—will _never_ really have—the heart to break, so she steers around her daughter’s question carefully. “You mean you wanna take the ice home?”

“Yeah!” The little girl replies, bouncing once on her feet.

“It’ll be a huge block, Ell,” Kara sidesteps once more. “Where are we going to put it?”

“Is it _gon’_ fit in our pool, Jeju?”

Kara stares at the expanse of the lake, to where the other side lies a few good square miles away. It’s inherently obvious that it wouldn’t in any way, would be impossible to even try. 

But it doesn’t mean that Kara _wouldn’t_ , even if the idea has to exist merely in theory. 

“It could if we take out just the right chunk,” she tells her daughter. “And like, dump it in the pool. We might have to drain it first though, so we don’t make Mommy mad by splashing water everywhere.”

Ellie’s smile grows bigger—and so does Kara’s heart, to a size she didn’t even know it was capable of—and then she begins tugging at Kara’s arms, towards the direction of the lake bank where Lena is. “Can we go tell Mommy now?”

“Just a second, Ell,” Kara says, chuckling at her daughter’s sudden display of enthusiasm. (If only she could get her _this_ excited about learning how to skate.) “We gotta figure out how to carry the ice first because I’ve never done it before.”

“Oh, okay,” Ellie mumbles. She deflates so visibly it lodges a tight knot in Kara’s throat, the way her shoulders fall making Kara want to take back everything she’s said in the last ten seconds.

So she does. “Hey, hey,” she soothes, crouching on her knees so her daughter can see her better. “I’m not saying no. I’m just saying I haven’t done it before.”

“S’okay, Jeju. ‘was just tryin’ to plan it.”

“How about we go back inside?” Kara quizzes. She cocks her head, gesturing at the direction of their lakehouse and consequently Lena’s. “And we write those plans down?”

Ellie’s smile returns just as quickly, effectively loosening the tight grip that’s squeezing around Kara’s heart. “‘Kay! Then we can tell Mommy?”

“Then we can tell Mommy.”

…

  
  


Kara skates them back to the bank, with Ellie now propped on her back, and her daughter’s laughter ringing in her ears as she makes a few twirls along the way.

The puzzled look Lena sends her when they make it doesn’t come as a surprise since their skating lessons have essentially been cut short. But she takes Ellie without any questions asked, unlaces the skate shoes and switches it for her snow boots before she sets their daughter back on her feet.

It’s Lena’s hand that Ellie tugs at this time, persistent until Lena relents and starts walking. “I’m coming, honey,” she tells her, glancing first at her daughter to make sure that she’s not falling on her face, then flitters it back to her wife. “Kara?”

Kara clears her throat, scrunching her nose as she meets Lena’s quizzical stare. “So, funny story. We may or may not be making plans to take home lake ice.”

“Kara?”

“And replace our pool with it.”

“Kara?!”

…

  
  


Later, when the fire’s up and crackling in their fireplace, and the hot chocolates have been poured out of the thermoses and into their favorite mugs, Kara starts laying out boxes of crayons and an old but unused sketchpad on their coffee table.

Ellie gets to work right out, eager and excited, with a million ideas already running in her bright young mind. She chats away, fast and in rambles that Kara usually does. “We can build a big sled, Jeju! So you don’ _hafta_ get tired carrying it.”

“Thank you, baby,” Kara says. The sudden burst of affection has her leaning forward and planting kisses on the top of Ellie’s dark hair. “That’s very nice of you.”

Lena watches them from her perch on the nearby couch, a fond look taking over the amusement on her face. It only grows when Ellie draws three stick figures riding the giant sled, labels them aptly as _Jeju_ , _Ellie_ , and _Mommy_.

Lena then decides she can’t miss any more of this—would never want to waste a second with her daughter and her wife—so she springs to her feet, sliding in to Ellie’s left side to keep their daughter in between them.

“You might need to add wheels, sweetheart,” she tells their little girl; catches Kara’s eyes over Ellie’s head and the bright grin Kara sends her. “For when we’re no longer in the snow. It’ll be quite hard to pull a sled against the ground.”

Ellie nods, and then reaches for a black crayon to draw the wheels beneath the sled; follows Lena’s finger when she points at where she thinks they should put them.

“But who’s gonna pull it, Ell?” Kara asks, giggling at the tongue that peeks out of the corner of their daughter’s mouth.

Ellie hums loudly in turn, and then props an elbow on the coffee table that catches her chin as she drops it on the heel of her palm. “Reindeer, Jeju! Like Santa!”

“Oh, Rao.”

“I—” Lena stammers. “I’m not sure where we can find reindeer, honey.”

“Does that mean we can’t bring it home?”

Lena doesn’t even know if they’re still talking about the same things anymore. If it’s the ice, or the sled, or the reindeer themselves. But what Lena _does_ know is that she hates the dejected look that dawns on her daughter’s face, and she’d do _anything_ to chase it away. “No, no. I’m sure we can find a way to do this. I’m just—I’ve never really worked with reindeer before.”

“You’ll be fine, Mommy,” Ellie assures with a couple of pats on her mother’s outstretched hand. “You’re the _bestest_.” 

…

  
  


“I suppose,” Lena says much, much later. It’s _light_ , but her eyes never stray away from their daughter’s sleeping form even as she speaks. A clear sign that she’s embarrassed of what she’s thinking (even though Kara would never think it as such). “I could always mix something down at the lab. We’ll just have to get the color right, or the closest possible at the very least.”

She feels more than sees Kara’s gaze falling on her, _feels_ the hand that squeezes her hip, prompting her to continue. “And, well, we could try freezing the pool, if she can’t wait until winter. Though, I’m not sure yet how we can do that exactly.”

“And the reindeer?”

“Don’t they sell models of those, somewhere? It doesn’t have to be life-sized. So long as it’s bigger than her and comes up taller than the sled, I suppose it’ll have the desired effect.”

“We’re really talking about the logistics of this, huh?” Kara says, can’t help but lean down to press a kiss on her wife’s temple. _Her wife_ , who loves hard and just as much as the people who love her back so fiercely.

“I guess we are,” answers Lena, shaking her head amidst her chuckles. Six years ago, if anyone would tell her she’d be talking about recreating lake ice in a pool to please her daughter, she wouldn’t even dare believe it. “I would do anything for her.”

“I know,” Kara says; echoes Ellie’s very same sentiments from earlier in her next breath. “That’s why you’re the _bestest_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is loosely inspired by that one ig post from brandi carlile. it was so adorable, and def sounded like a supercorp baby/kara convo haha if you haven't seen the clip, here is the [link](https://www.instagram.com/p/CGF0EtKhLQv/)!
> 
> i'd love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/) or just talk sc head canons, or anything really
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	11. can i have your attention please

**Day One**

Lena Luthor is strictly here for business.

 _Here_ being London Hilton Metropole, in the largest three-day AI and Robotics Conference of the year. And Lena Luthor is strictly here for business and business alone.

Perhaps to also give a talk or two about L-Corp’s newest nano technology that she’s been working on with Spheerical Industries for three years now. Slated to launch early next year, she has agreed to give a one-time sneak peek on where they are now and how far they have taken the technology to. _Build the hype_ , as Sam, her CFO, would rather put it.

Maybe there _is_ that. But nothing more.

So when she shakes the hand of EL Technologies’ new CEO, Lena smiles like all she means is business. Even if the smile Kara Danvers answers her with is brighter than the sun, and she looks like the most dashing woman Lena has ever met in her sleek navy blue suit.

“Miss Luthor,” Kara greets, offering Lena a hand to shake with. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“All good things, I hope?” Lena says. Her voice drops an octave on its own the moment she feels warm, calloused fingers squeeze hers, and, _god_ , she’s here _just for business_.

“Oh, great things, I assure you,” Kara tells her. She’s still smiling at Lena like they didn’t just try and outbid each other over a new technology model last week, or raced to secure a patent another week before. Their hands hover in the space between them, connected in ways that send dangerous jolts of electricity to Lena’s brain, _synapses_ that are starting to feel like they’ve crossed the line over business within three seconds of catching each others’ eyes from across the room. 

“My friend Winn is a fan.”

It’s the mention of someone else’s name that reminds Lena that the room isn’t exactly just theirs, not just Kara’s _and_ hers. She slowly withdraws her hand, pointedly ignoring the sudden lack of warmth that she feels so _starkly_ the moment she breaks contact. 

Lena brings it over to her stomach for some semblance of control, folding it over her other hand that’s holding her purse. “Well, I do hope I can meet him sometime, too.”

“I’d be sure to tell him that. He’d be thrilled,” Kara says. And then, it’s silence.

Normally, Lena would take this time to excuse herself, under the guise of her attention being needed by something important. But there’s a twine around her that she almost physically feels, tethered to Kara’s smile and the blue of her eyes; to the way Kara bites at her bottom lip, trying to come up with something to say.

From somewhere behind them, Lena hears Jack call her name, beckoning her towards their table. Kara takes it as her cue. “I uhm, I’ll see you around, Miss Luthor.”

(And if there’s disappointment that twists on Kara’s face, Lena shouldn’t really care because she’s really, genuinely, just here for business.)

Lena intends to say, _yes, see you around_ ; doesn’t, _doesn’t_ mean to rasp, “Lena, please.”

But she does, and now Kara’s face is lighting up, and there’s an answering flutter in Lena’s stomach at _that_ visual that she absolutely has no idea how to deal with.

“Only if you call me,” Kara replies. Her eyes grow wide the very next second her words register in her brain, fumbling to add _Kara_ as her hand flies out of her pockets and up to fix her glasses. “T-thats—that’s what I mean. Only if you call me Kara.”

“Perhaps,” Lena says, arches a brow in teasing despite her brain flashing _business only_ in huge neon lights. “If you play your cards right.”

Then, she twirls around, sashaying towards her designated seat; walks away with business as the last thing in her mind.

…

  
  


Hours later, all Lena remembers from her day is the few acquaintances she’s glad she’s made.

But mostly, it’s small, timid smiles and finding steel blue eyes behind square-rimmed glasses staring back at her at the end of her every gaze.

…

  
  


**Day Two**

Lena’s talk goes very well. 

It’s a complete understatement, but Lena’s never been one to brag. _It’s unbecoming_ , are her adoptive mother’s words, and Lena’s very much inclined to agree.

(Though Lillian’s _let them think they have you, and at the very first sign of weakness, strike_ as a war strategy during boardroom meetings isn’t really something she abides by. Neither takes it as a business practice etiquette in general.)

Lena lets the applause speak for itself, and the numerous business cards being handed to her as soon as she steps down the platform. She and Jack bask at the titillated attention, Lena moreso, in the wake of her brother’s very publicized trial not too long ago.

Jess collects the business cards eagerly, splitting them into two discreet piles. One for those who surely have good business potential—names at the top of Jess’ head that she’s researched weeks ahead of getting the invite. And the other for companies tied to highly questionable practices that Lena wouldn’t even bother sparing a second to look at.

Lena’s mood has incredibly soared by the time she gets back to their table, evident in the way she can’t help but squeeze Sam when the other woman goes to hug her in celebration.

“Oh my God, you two!” Sam lauds, just a shred of control away from squealing. Lena has no doubts she would have if this were a different setting. “That was amazing!”

“Blew their minds off, didn’t we, love?” Jack replies, grinning against the wine glass poised over his mouth.

Sam snorts; smirks at Jack as she throws him a coy look. “Among other things, I’m sure. Especially after this.”

Jack tips his head back, cackling then. The wine glass shakes in his hand, though it doesn’t spill much to Lena’s relief. She may be wearing black, but it’s a dress Lena would _hate_ to sully on. Both because of the price and the fact that it’s always been one of her favorites.

“Must you two be so crass,” she chides, rewarding Jack with a roll of her eyes when he simply holds the wine glass up at her in a toast.

Her friends would’ve been in for more, if not for her phone she hears buzzing inside her purse. She fishes it out, and thinks Sam and Jack owe it to her mother that she doesn’t kick them both.

The message is very succinct. But it fills Lena with pride all the same.

_Well done._

Lena types a quick _Thank you, Mother,_ firing the text with a genuine smile. It only grows when she catches movement at the corner of her eyes, right at the table where EL Technologies’ team is sitting.

Kara is sliding off of her seat, striding towards L-Corp’s table armed with one of her smiles that Lena finds impossible not to return in kind.

She’s in a black suit this time, with a baby blue dress shirt underneath that brings out her eyes. Her hair is up in a pristine ponytail, not one strand out of place, and overall looking like the kind of gentleman Hollywood makes James Bond movies about.

And it makes Lena go, “ _Oh_.” 

She hears her own breath hitch, feels immensely relieved that Kara’s still some ways away, enough for her not to hear it nor notice her swallowing thickly.

But Sam _definitely_ does, and Lena honestly doesn’t know how to bite back as Sam murmurs, “Looks like Lena’s gonna get her mind blown too.”

It’s probably too late for her anyway, not when Kara stops by their table just as she opens her mouth to speak—would probably draw more attention to it if she does.

So she presses her lips together, curling them up expectantly and disguises it behind playful mirth as she watches Kara greet Sam, Jack, and Jess politely. It isn’t unkind, simply curt in her offers of congratulations. Yet Lena can still feel the genuine intent behind her words.

Then, she turns to Lena; says, “That was a very informative overture there, Le—Miss Luthor.”

“Thank you, Kara,” Lena replies. Though she can’t help but arch a brow at the formality that’s suddenly springing in between them now.

A rush of pink colors Kara’s cheeks. She glances around, seemingly looking at Lena’s table companions before returning her gaze at Lena. “Sorry,” Kara mumbles. “I really meant to say Lena, but—”

Kara cuts her own thoughts off, shaking her head and her hands to try and shake the awkwardness away. Then, “Anyway, I just came over to offer my congratulations.”

Lena thanks her again, waits for what Kara will say next. Maybe a dinner invite once today’s schedule of activities ends, or tomorrow if it’s already too late and Kara already has _prior engagements_ that Lena hates to think about. Or ask for Lena’s number.

Neither of those comes. What does is Kara excusing herself after wishing Lena a good night, and more promises of seeing her around.

Then she’s twirling around and walking away, and Lena’s left in a very, very confused daze.

Kara didn’t even leave _her_ card.

…

  
  


It’s a different woman who does, a little while later. Alex Danvers comes by to their table armed with a confident smile and a pitch that even Lena has to admit isn’t unsound at all.

“So I know your nanotech is mostly focusing on curing cancer,” says Alex. She doesn’t pull a chair out, clearly not intent on staying a while, but Lena knows she’ll be seeing more of her in the coming days. “But what about prosthetics? Not necessarily full bionic arms, just a better synapse system.”

Jack tucks two fingers under his chin, rubbing in thought and _actual_ consideration of Alex’s idea. “I can’t say I’m not intrigued.”

Alex grins widely at them, and plucks a card out of the pocket of her blazer. She slides it on the table, more to Sam’s direction than Lena’s, then, “Think about it, and let me know.”

She leaves with one business card lighter, and Sam’s eyes trailing her all the way back.

…

  
  


**Day Three**

Kara isn’t playing her cards right.

In fact, Kara isn’t even playing her cards at all.

It’s the last day of the conference—a very short schedule at that—and all Lena gets from her are lingering stares and smiles that Lena still finds impossible to resist and _not_ return despite her slowly building annoyance.

It does push her to flip her _business only, no vacancy_ neon sign back on though, and ultimately helps her decide to skip the afterparty gala she’s been contemplating whether or not to go to.

And if she does linger a bit right after the conference has been declared officially closed, and Kara does too, then that’s a total, utter, complete coincidence.

Lena _isn’t_ taking her time packing up, nor is she taking her time catching up to her emails. She just doesn’t want to walk out with the rest of the crowd and potentially share an elevator ride with people she’s spent the entire three days trying to avoid.

Ultimately, the last of them filters out until it’s just Kara and her left inside the hall. It’s bound to be just Kara though, Lena thinks, now that she’s reached the last of her emails.

Lena makes to stand, picks her things up to walk away and perhaps never really look back—even though EL Technologies is right across L-Corp’s street, and Kara and her run in practically the same circles; they’re bound to meet like different points in an orbit.

But Kara moves just a little too quicker than Lena’s anticipated, and she’s on Lena’s side just as Lena’s slipped out of her seat. “Hi, Lena.”

“Hello, Kara,” Lena greets back, albeit more curt than the last few times the past two days.

If Kara is surprised by the frosty greeting, she doesn’t show it. She simply nods once and keeps the smile Lena’s noticed is reserved solely for her.

(It’s partly why Lena’s _annoyed_ , when Kara’s got _that_ smile and yet—)

“So I was wondering if,” Kara begins to say. She clasps her hands behind her back, scuffing the toe of her oxfords as she gazes at Lena from under her lids. “If you want to get dinner sometime? Maybe tonight?”

The neon sign in Lena’s mind _flickers_ , but a part of her still feels remarkably annoyed; and it’s that part that _bristles_. “Oh, so now you’re playing your cards?”

“I was waiting,” Kara defends, her voice soft despite the sharp lilt in Lena’s tone. “With respect.”

“What does that even mean?”

Kara sighs, untangling her hands from behind her to push her glasses back into place. “I wanted to make it clear, I guess. Have that distinction that this—it’s never going to be about business, if I do ask you to dinner.”

“And?” Lena prompts, thawing a little bit.

“So I waited until the conference was over, before I asked,” Kara continues. “I wanted to, last night. Because you’re so amazing, and so brilliant, and you’re going to save so many lives and—and—”

Kara’s breath heaves then, her nostrils flaring as she sucks in a lungful of air. She pockets both of her hands, balling her fingers into fists, like she’s preparing to let more words out. Maybe she _is_.

“And I’ve liked you ever since I saw you crush Maxwell Lord’s most prized robotic arm over arm wrestling, just because you couldn’t stand hearing him make fun of Querl—he goes by Brainy now, by the way—”

Lena presses her lips together, stifling a giddy smile—a very, _very_ giddy smile. “Yes, I’ve heard. We catch up sometimes, down at the lab.”

Kara nods, swallows thickly. “And it was a robotic arm that you built in like, four days. On top of your PhD classes.”

Lena’s smile turns lopsided, her face falling when her brain finally kicks back and traces the chronology of those events. “But Kara that was—”

“Four years ago, I know,” Kara confirms— _confesses_ , really. “I’ve been wanting to—to, you know—but, there didn’t seem to be a right time. You were with Andrea from our Quantum Mechanics class, and then Jack. And so last night, I thought, what’s a few more days of waiting?”

Lena’s eyes grow wide as Kara’s does. “Unless you still are with Jack, and oh, _golly_. This is going to be very, very awkward.”

Kara starts bouncing on her feet, switches between fiddling with her glasses and loosening her red skinny tie. It prompts Lena to inch closer, settling Kara down with the hand she curls around her _surprisingly_ solid bicep. “Kara, it’s okay.”

“But—”

“It’s fine, I promise,” Lena soothes with a small chuckle. “I’m not with Jack. In fact, I’ve never been with Jack.”

Kara’s breath hitches in surprise. “You’re not?”

“No,” Lena reiterates; shakes her head to hammer the truth in. “And Andrea and I are just good friends.”

“Oh.” _Oh_ , Kara thinks. “Golly.”

Lena squeezes at Kara’s upper arm to make the other woman meet her eyes. “And maybe you were right. There wasn’t a right time then, and I think I would hate to…”

She trails off, leaving the thought on purpose. But Lena feels its truth, that if it had happened then, when being a Luthor and what it entailed was all that mattered then, she would hate for her not to see this thing with Kara through.

Thankfully, Kara doesn’t ask. Though, perhaps, the wistful look in her eyes is answer enough. Instead, Kara clears her throat, curves her lips to a smile that Lena’s starting to love, then, asks, “So, uhm, dinner?”

Lena lets her hold on Kara’s arms go in lieu of answering. She roots inside her purse, fishing a pen and a blank white business card out.

Kara just watches her patiently—what’s a few more seconds, anyway—her eyes never leaving Lena’s form as Lena jots down ten digits on the blank card and what looks like a room number.

Then, Lena caps the pen and chucks it inside the pocket of her purse, waiting for the ink to dry. And when it does, she presses the card against Kara’s chest, leans on her toes to meet Kara’s sparkling, steely blue eyes, and whispers in Kara’s space. “Pick me up at seven thirty tonight.”

She leaves with a kiss on Kara’s cheek, and a feeling that she’s gained something much, much more than what she came for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl, i loved this universe so much! i might end up writing it, like, ~full blown but no promises! haha
> 
> i'd love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/) or just talk sc head canons, or anything really
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	12. i’m sitting in the clouds today

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more of ceo!kara and ceo!lena, because they're still living in my mind rent free and i may or may not be becoming obsessed fhkhfsf

Lena gets the invite on a Wednesday afternoon; a very bright, sunny day where the blue of the sky reminds her of eyes she’s fallen asleep to the night before.

The call that follows comes just as Jess shuts her office door. Lena almost laughs at the punctuality, the beginnings of it rumbling in her chest as she swipes over her screen and picks up.

Her other hand takes hold of the nearby remote when the call connects, her thumb hitting on a red button that mutes the giant flatscreen mounted on her wall. Lena’s eyes follow the scrolling ticker tape below the news anchor’s face, a smug curve of her lips shaping up even though no one else can see.

“ _What are you doing next Friday night?_ ”

“And here I was thinking you’re calling about L-Corp’s current rise in stocks.”

Lena hears the scoffed _please_ from the other line, but she only returns it with an amused hum.

“ _It’s literally a zero point one difference in increase. Which we’re going to get back tomorrow, by the way. I feel like as your girlfriend, it’s my duty to warn you._ ”

“Don’t let your sister catch you then,” she teasingly cautions. And Lena doesn’t really need to see Kara to picture the ensuing playful grin that takes hold of Kara’s face. “Corporate treason is a very serious offense in her books.”

“ _Maybe I should let her catch me,_ ” Kara grumbles in reply. “ _It’ll certainly be payback for that night_.”

Lena heaves a resigned sigh in turn, switching her phone to her other ear so her disgusted groan doesn’t fill up her entire office, and ultimately Kara’s. “Darling, I adore you. But there are things I definitely don’t need to know about your sister and my best friend.”

“ _Ma’am, please. Get your mind out the gutter,_ ” she hears Kara say, letting out a loud, scandalized gasp that Lena _knows_ she feigns. “ _I’m talking about overhearing their plans of a corporate take over_.”

“Oh, do tell.”

“ _Apparently, we’re too much of a power couple they can’t handle it._ ”

“ _You’re_ too much,” Lena jests, matches it with a soft laugh that cushions her teasing with.

“ _But you adore me, so I still win._ ”

“Maybe I’m starting to debate the merits of that.”

“ _Don’t you dare joke_ ,” Kara retorts with a chuckle.

But Lena can hear the unsteady lilt in her tone, and feels the shakiness in the brief silence that follows. Feels three words slide to the tip of her tongue, but it _isn’t_ the right time and it’s the very last place Lena would like to let the words out. So instead, she says, “I really do adore you. You know that, right?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Kara murmurs, unknowingly loosening the tight knot that has lodged itself in Lena’s throat. “ _I don’t think that’s something I’ll ever forget._ ”

“Kara—

“ _Anyway_ ,” Kara breaks off with an audible clear of her own throat. Lena recognizes the shift in their conversation, and easily acquiesces without any protest; admits more to herself than the woman she _really_ does adore that there may be things the both of them are not prepared to flay out in the open. Not yet.

“ _Can we switch to FaceTime, please? I miss your pretty face._ ”

“We just saw each other this morning. Over breakfast? Since I spent the night?”

“ _So?_ ” Kara defends, like it’s a completely absurd idea _not_ to miss her. “ _Today’s a brand new day, or something like that._ ”

“Oh, well, when you say it like that,” Lena caves in with an endeared laugh. “You make a good point.”

“ _I’m insulted at the implication that there are moments that I don’t_.”

“Now, don’t make me change my mind.”

“ _Besides, I really do need to tell you about that one time I caught Alex and Sam totally going at it. On Alex’s desk, babe! Golly!_ ”

“Darling,” Lena drawls in fond exasperation. “One more word about that and I’m hanging up instead.”

…

  
  


Kara’s beaming face is what greets her as soon as she relents—as if there was ever really any doubt Lena would miss spending time with Kara in any way.

Kara’s hair is down and loose, tumbling over her broad shoulders in a way that reminds Lena of their night before. Lena feels an ensuing pang at _that_ sight, her fingers flexing with unbridled want to run them through soft blonde locks.

“ _So, you never did tell me what your plans are for next Friday night_ ,” Kara says.

Lena watches her stretch a hand just out of the screen’s view, her palm full of chocolate nibbles once she pulls it back. Lena recalls Kara being her first thought when she walked by _Chocolatier Suisse_ in Zurich on a business trip a few weeks ago, and the very same nibbles were front and center of the shop’s window.

 _Remembers_ trading jet lag and the lack of proper sleep for the warmth and safety of Kara’s arms; and the absolute joy on Kara’s face as Kara opened her penthouse door and found Lena standing in her hallway, sticky and gross from all the travel, her rolling suitcase in one hand and the pack of chocolates in the other.

Lena bites at her lip, both at the memory of _that_ day and at the same exact look of bliss now showing on Kara’s face through Lena’s screen. It’s such a sight to behold; a near constant too, whenever they get the chance to take a few minutes from their respective days to spend together.

She props an elbow up on her desk, dropping her chin on her palm as she glances at the calendar widget pinned on her tablet’s screen. She taps on it to bring the entire view up, and is genuinely surprised to find that her afternoon next Friday is miraculously free. Save for a thirty-minute meeting with her IT department that she can have Jess easily reschedule.

Still, she takes her time to reply, shuffles and sifts through the stack of papers on her desk until she hears a petulant, grumbled _babe_ waft through her phone’s speaker. It frees the giddy laugh she’s been trying to hold in—a common occurrence these days, and it’s all thanks to blonde hair and steely blue eyes.

“I’m not sure yet, I’m afraid.”

It’s even more amusing, Lena thinks, that she’s staring at the _exact_ same date that’s printed on the invitation.

“ _I see_ ,” Kara replies; throws the last of the nibbles in her mouth before speaking. “ _What if I say that I’d really love to see you that night?_ ”

Lena chuckles heartily at that, the sound ringing all over the line and making Kara’s heart turn over beneath her chest. Then, she says, “I’d say are you always this direct?”

“ _A girl’s gotta shoot her shot, or so Alex told me. So you should totally spend it with me. Just saying._ ”

“Oh I plan to. There is no doubt about that. The entire, _long_ , night,” says Lena. She flashes Kara a smirk, keeping it up even when Kara splutters about and practically chokes on a piece of chocolate she swallows wrongly.

“ _Lena!_ ”

Lena simply winks at her in response. Then, she reaches for the invitation, waving it on the screen for Kara to see. “ _This is our next Friday night, darling._ ”

Kara groans, tipping her head back against her tall chair rest. “ _But I was thinking less dressing up and more dressing down, you know? Maybe no dresses at all. Sounds better, if you ask me._ ”

Lena lifts a brow, shoots Kara a coy smile and hopes Kara will very much rise to the challenge. “Who says it won’t go according to _your_ plans, after?”

…

  
  


Two days later, she’s sauntering on the top floor of Kara’s office armed with a black garment carrier folded over her arm, and polite answering smiles for every familiar face that greets her as she makes her way.

By the row of elevators, she nearly bumps into Bruce Wayne as she makes her exit. His towering, lithe form both feels like a beacon and a brick wall she narrowly avoids.

“Ah, Mister Wayne,” she greets him once she’s managed to collect herself. “It’s been a while.”

“Miss Luthor,” Bruce returns with a polite nod. “Are you lost? I don’t recall walking into L-Corp’s building.”

“Corporate espionage,” Lena replies, smirking as Bruce lets out a gruff chuckle. “It’s a new thing I’m trying.”

“And I suppose it’s going well?” He quips.

“If you must know,” she starts to say. Her ears catch the sound of Kara’s door cracking open, and when Lena looks, Kara’s head is wedged in between the scant space, likely told by her very efficient assistant that Lena has arrived.

Lena can’t help the warmth that spreads all over her chest, her heart constricting at the beaming smile that settles on Kara’s face. As if seeing Lena makes her the happiest.

And all Lena finds herself saying is, “I think it really is.”

(Because, _maybe_ , she really _does_.)

…

  
  


Kara’s propped against her desk by the time Lena joins her inside her office, leaning lazily and affecting _cool_ with the way her hands are placed against the edge, though the giddiness in her eyes is unmistakable.

Lena meticulously drapes the garment carrier over the curve of the thick rest belonging to the gray couch that’s sitting right across Kara’s desk, dumps her purse and her tablet right on the next empty space.

Then, she makes her way to Kara, cupping her hands on Kara’s jaw; noses her way into Kara’s space for a kiss that leaves a _warmth_ thrumming in her chest.

“Hi,” Kara whispers. The puffs of her minty breath feel like soft fluttery kisses against her nose and her lips. Lena can’t help but kiss her again.

Kara’s arms leave her desk, wrapping themselves around Lena’s waist to pull her closer. Until they’re pressed against each other and Lena’s standing in between Kara’s legs.

“I see you come bearing gifts,” Kara says. She cocks her head, gesturing at the garment carrier sprawled on her couch. “I can buy my own tuxedo, you know.”

“I know,” Lena replies; slides a hand down so she can curl it around Kara’s neck, her thumb running a fond, tender trail against the line that shapes Kara’s jaw. “But I like the idea of spoiling you.”

Kara smiles, soft and grateful. But the way she touches her forehead against Lena’s is even more. “And if I want to spoil you?”

“By all means, please do,” answers Lena. But it’s more than that. It’s _always_ going to be more than that. Lena doesn’t need to be showered with lavish things, but she loves the way it makes Kara smile, and ultimately, all Lena wants is to make Kara happy.

“You always know the right things to say.”

“Darling, that’s _you_ ,” Lena states, in such a matter-of-factly manner that it makes Kara chuckle.

“If I know the right things to say,” Kara then says, settling a hand on the small of Lena’s back. “Then we’d totally be doing a different thing next Friday night.”

The heat of her palm is admittedly distracting, seeping through Lena’s colorblock top as if it isn’t even there. That feeling matched with how _delectable_ Kara looks in her chinos and white dress shirt _almost_ manages to make her lose her train of thought, but Lena’s determined to get through their conversation and settle their affairs for that night. “Kara, it’s a masquerade party for a cause.”

Kara snorts, and then says, “Yeah, and it’s hosted by Morgan Edge.”

Like it’s explanation enough. Though, apparently, Lena’s gonna need more than that. “I’d rather we do something else, too—”

“So, we totally should!”

“But,” Lena carries on. Though it’s not without a comforting touch on Kara’s cheek to mollify her. “I’m not sure this is something we should be passing on.”

“I just don’t trust that they’re legitimate charities, you know?”

“We’ll check, don’t worry,” Lena says. “And we’ll pick the actual, legitimate ones.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d say that,” Kara mumbles with a sigh. “Nia’s already on it, as we speak.”

“I’ll have Jess speak with her to cross check.”

“Edge and charities,” Kara tuts, mumbling. “That’s something you don’t see every day. This year’s really strange.”

Lena smiles, fixes Kara’s glasses for her and secures it back in place. “You’re in a mood.”

“Mercury’s in retrograde. Or so the ads on CatCo’s site say. That’s an excuse, right?”

“It is, yes,” Lena agrees, more amused than anything. “But I don’t think it will reflect highly on both of us if we do skip. And what are you doing on CatCo’s site?”

“I got curious.”

“About?”

“ _She says that people stare_ ,” Kara sings, in lieu of an answer. “ _‘Cause we look so good together._ ”

And really, what else can Lena do but kiss her again?

…

  
  


Later, when Kara’s intercom beeps and blinks its lights on line one, and Kara has to begrudgingly peel off of Lena’s embrace to hear the message, Lena takes that time to take Kara’s _Tom Ford_ tuxedo from the couch and hang it properly.

She walks into one of the nondescript wall panels, laying a palm out and pressing on one of the faint square spots. The panel slides to give way for Kara’s office closet, where Kara’s spare suits and some of Lena’s dresses are.

Lena carefully shifts some of the clothes further back, making space for the garment carrier she’s brought with her. Then, she takes out a loose dark blue dress in exchange, and heads for Kara’s ensuite bathroom to change for the day.

She catches the faint tail ends of Kara’s conversation with her assistant, but Kara’s next words ring loud and clear in the bathroom. “This is why Alex thinks all we do in my office is have sex.”

“What can I say?” Lena replies, voice slightly coming out muffled. “I like traumatizing your sister.”

Kara can only laugh.

…

  
  


When Lena steps out, it’s to Kara checking her the watch strapped on her wrist for the time. It’s Lena’s gift to her, and it makes Lena’s heart skip a beat in turn, seeing Kara swipe a finger on the face’s cover reverently.

The thud of her Louboutins on Kara’s floor is what announces her re-emerging presence, walking back to Kara’s closet to hang the dress she’s changed from; pushes on the square again to shut the closet and lets the self-cleaning mechanism Kara has installed to do its job. “Besides, you make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

“Traumatizing my sister?”

Lena arches a _knowing_ brow. “No.”

And relishes the laughter that comes in the wake of the violent blush that colors Kara’s face.

She then strolls towards Kara’s chair, grabbing the blazer draped on the rest. The scent of Kara’s perfume fills her head instantly as she shrugs it on, and warmth flows from her head down to her toes.

(And Kara would be lying if she says it isn’t her favorite sight in all that she’s ever seen, Lena in _her_ jacket—in her very own clothes.)

She takes Kara’s hand, lacing their fingers together and tilting her head towards the direction of Kara’s doors. “Lunch, shall we?”

Kara grins, brushes her lips on Lena’s knuckles like the perfect _gentlewoman_ Lena’s known her to always be, then, says, “Lead the way, my lady.”

(And, _oh_ , Lena thinks she _is_ in love.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/) or just talk sc head canons, or anything really
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	13. so let me know if there’s something i’m missing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for all the kudos and the comments, you lovely people <3

Kara’s never been one to believe in luck.

Born on a planet where everything is premeditated, and love was more of an anomaly than something magical, Kara never really had a solid foundation of such a notion.

It’s as foreign as the first time she’s seen the yellow sun, or the very first drop of snow she’s caught with her tongue; or the very first time she bit a fortune cookie in half and ended up with a strip of paper and a _the fortune you seek is in another cookie_ in her mouth.

So when Lena thanks Kara for being her good luck charm just as Kara’s about to shoot out of her penthouse’s balcony, and Lena’s kissing her on the cheek, Kara falters mid-step and nearly plummets down to the ground; leaves dents on a dozen billboard frames with her _shapes_ as she flies, all the while thinking about what really _is_ a good luck charm and what has Kara got to do with it.

…

Google yields things Kara’s already known: it’s both an item or amulet that brings luck, says Wikipedia; and a kind of cereal, according to Urban Dictionary.

None of those really capture what Lena meant, though. Kara can’t help but feel it’s more than _that_ , but as much as Kara believes in hope and everything good in this world, she’s also learned and mastered the art of pragmatism when it comes to things between Lena and her.

( _And_ as much as she believes that if she were a cereal she’d definitely taste like Lucky Charms, she doesn’t think that’s _it_ either.)

Alex finds her in the DEO like that, staring at Wikipedia’s page about lucky charms as if it holds all the answers to all the questions in the universe. And for all her super hearing and superpowered senses, Alex has to tap her on her shoulder to announce her presence to Kara.

“You okay there, Kara?” Alex asks.

“Yeah,” Kara first says, shakes her head next. “No. Yeah, I think so?”

Alex suppresses an amused chuckle, pointing at the crease in between Kara’s brows before speaking once more. “I’m gonna go with no. What’s up?”

Kara cocks her head to look up quizzically at her sister. “What does it mean, when someone tells you you’re their lucky charm?”

“It’s kind of pretty literal, in a sense,” Alex replies with a shrug. “It means you bring them luck, whenever you’re around.”

“But how?” Kara asks. Because there’s no such thing as _luck_ on Krypton, and Kara _needs_ to know.

“You’re going to have to ask her that.”

“Yeah, I guess I have.”

…

  
  


It’s after leaving ten more dents in tall oak trees this time that she realizes Alex has hazarded a guess that Kara’s pretty much confirmed without meaning to—without feeling prepared to—and maybe she isn’t much of a good luck charm to herself after all.

…

  
  


Lena’s just finishing up a call when Kara touches down on her balcony for an impromptu visit. No emergencies or anything dire, Kara just really felt like it’s been a while since she’s last seen Lena—twelve hours, twenty three minutes and fourteen seconds ago, not that Kara’s counting.

Lena’s smiling at her as she waves her in, and Kara catches the tail ends of that phone call, where Lena speaks to the receiver that she’ll be sending the final contract to sign within the afternoon.

And then Lena’s bidding the caller goodbye, and she’s putting the phone down with an excited look on her face, and Lena’s telling her as Kara parks herself on Lena’s desk, “We’ve been on a stalemate for hours. And then you walked in, and it’s like Mister Haruto suddenly changed his mind and said yes to L-Corp’s proposal!”

Kara nods, smiles at her like she’s a ray of red sun that Kara misses in ways that both hurt and doesn’t. “That’s amazing news, Lena!”

“I’m never one about superstitions but,” Lena continues, her joy palpable. “Kara Danvers, you really are my lucky charm.”

Kara’s smile grows into a full grin, feels her heart turn over beneath her chest because despite the huge emblem staring Lena at the face, Lena still sees her as _Kara_ . There’s warmth seeping out of her that’s akin to what she remembers feeling when Rao’s light had hit her skin, and if this is _luck_ , Kara thinks, she doesn’t ever want to lose it.

…

  
  


When she gets home that night, she fires a text to Alex way before even zipping out of her suit. _How do you tell someone they’re your lucky charm?_

 _Words, Kara_ , is Alex’s reply. _You tell them with words_. 

Kara snorts at that, rolling her eyes even though there’s no way for her sister to see; types quick to send, _But what if you can’t “words”?_

She super speeds into her sleep clothes, lets Alex’s reply stew in her phone for a few more seconds before pulling their thread up.

 _Idk. Get her her own lucky charm, I guess_.

And _oh_ , Kara thinks, that’s not a bad idea at all.

…

  
  


She shows up at Lena’s office the next day in her _Kara clothes_ , feeling like it’d be a touch more _personal_. She knocks at Lena’s door too, _shy_ all of a sudden and clutching a brown paper bag she tries to hide behind her back.

But Kara wasn’t born with an ounce of subtlety, and stealth really _isn’t_ her strongest suit. Lena spots the paper bag easily, one of her brows rising to her forehead as she beckons Kara to come closer.

“If that’s lunch you have behind you,” Lena then says, her smile coy. “Then I’m afraid Supergirl has already beat you to it.”

“It’s—it’s not,” Kara replies, or more like stumbles. “I just—I got you something.”

“What is it?”

Kara pulls the hand she’s been hiding behind her back, sets the paper bag on Lena’s desk, and gestures for Lena to unwrap it.

Lena tips the paper bag towards her face, sneaking a peek at what’s inside. It’s a red carton box—a _cereal_ box, in fact, Lena vaguely recognizes, tall and large sized.

Lena fishes it out, twists it around so the front faces her. A look of confusion dawns on her face, though, when she asks Kara, it isn’t unkind. “Lucky charms?”

Kara nods, maybe inhumanly even. “You—you said I’m your lucky charm. And I guess I wanted to say you’re mine, too. And—and Alex said that you get your lucky charms their _own_ lucky charms if you wanna tell them they’re _your_ lucky charm and you can’t do words.”

“Huh,” Lena hums, pondering.

“Wikipedia said it’s something that brings luck, and Urban Dictionary said _Lucky Charms_ cereal is the best, so...”

Kara trails off with a bashful shrug, clasps her hands behind her back again to fiddle with her fingers, even as Lena slides off of her tall expensive-looking chair and stops to stand right in front of her.

“Well they’re _my_ lucky charms now,” Lena says. There’s a soft, tender smile on her face that sends Kara to another fit of bashful flush, her breath hitching as Lena presses a kiss on the corner of her mouth and says in the most earnest tone of voice Kara’s ever heard her speak, “Thank you, Kara.”

And when Kara brings Lena her favorite scones the next day, and finds a narrow, clear cylinder on Lena’s table that looks intricate and built with the most modern _preserval_ technology, full to the brim with multi-colored cereals, Kara thinks _luck_ really does exist, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit short for today's prompt bec work ran longer and some irl stuff came up and i didn't have that much time to write. also i think my brain needs to rest, so my next fills might be short too (if i could post at all, but i will try my best!) 
> 
> and really, thank you so much for the kudos and the comments, and just giving a chance to these fills! the response to the ceo!kara au has been so amazing i honestly can't wait to sit down and think about how to flesh it out.
> 
> i'd love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/) or just talk sc head canons, or anything really
> 
> or if you have head canons for ceo!kara (or any of the universes i've written so far), please do share them with me, and we can scream about it together! haha
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	14. come out, come here

Kara’s in Midvale. 

It’s Thanksgiving Eve, and Kara has been sending Lena fifteen snaps of the most random things in two minute intervals, while Lena’s stuck in between her cold office and a rough draft of a business proposal she’s made a commitment to compose herself.

Alex is with her there already, too. Though Lena only knows this because Kara’s made sure to capture her within the frame of every photo she takes, the roll of Alex’s eyes over her sister’s antics serving as Kara’s unchanging backdrop.

Nia, she finds out eleven snaps in, has just arrived. But she’s already willingly joined Kara’s shenanigans. And Lena _can’t_ even be annoyed—when Kara sends her a selfie with two Pringle chips stuck in her mouth like a beak, and she’s captioned it with _it’s starting to get quack in here!_ —because she knows Kara’s only doing it so she doesn’t feel left out.

Her phone buzzes three more times, one after the other. At a fourth buzz, Lena’s tempted to just ditch all of her obligations and make the drive; chuckles and shakes her head at a clip of Kara asking Nia _why didn’t the cook season her turkey_ , and then holding up a thin bundle of thyme as she yelled, _because she didn’t have thyme!_

But Lena’s never one to break a commitment she has personally guaranteed to deliver. So she simply sets her pen down in place of packing her things up and calling it a night, tapping on Kara’s most recent snap to reply.

_How many more Thanksgiving puns do you have up in your sleeve?_

Her phone _dings_ even before she has the chance to exit the app, a telltale sign that Kara’s used her superspeed.

Though Lena supposes it comes with being in her hometown, at the place that Kara has grown up. It’s one of the very few places on Earth that Kara doesn’t have to hide, doesn’t have to think twice about her every move in fear of her secret coming to light.

And Lena will always wish for Kara to have that—will give it to Kara every single day, if she could. And if it means having to deal with things done at an _inhuman_ rate and Lena’s very human self has to catch up as quickly, Lena’s more than prepared to do it.

 _Enough_ , she starts to read, _for me to annoy you so much you’ll go to Midvale just to tell me to stop_.

Lena feels an ensuing _pang_ at that, _feels_ a yearning so deep in her gut it makes her hands shake. Midvale isn’t even four hours away from National City, but she’s fallen asleep to Kara’s warmth every night, with Kara’s steady heartbeat as her gentle lullaby. So it’s _there_ , a solid churning that drops at the pit of her stomach.

Because Kara’s in Midvale, and suddenly, Lena doesn’t know how to be alone anymore.

…

  
  


_I’m sorry, honey_ , Lena manages to compose as the moment passes. Though the yearning feeling stays, and it’s what compels Lena to add, _I wish I could be there already, too_.

 _It’s okay_ , read Kara’s reply; matches it with a sticker of Mickey Mouse and Minnie holding hands. 

Then, Lena’s phone beeps again, as another one of Kara’s messages follows. _You’ll be here before dinner tomorrow, anyway. I can wait :)_

Lena _hates_ that Kara didn’t even have to, if only she’d chosen differently. But she chose Lena in the end, despite their history and everything else in between, and Lena _loves_ her even more for that.

…

  
  


The late hours start hitting without Lena noticing, becoming heavily absorbed with the more technical parts of the rough draft. It also helps that Kara’s messages have been coming less and more sporadic, because as much as she’d love a minute by minute update, she also wants to finish everything before midnight.

She’s nose deep in the second to the last page, and only finally takes note of the time when her phone buzzes after quite a prolonged silence. Her screen flashes ten twenty three, along with Alex’s name in her notifications.

Lena pulls her message thread with Alex up, her laughter ringing in her entire office as it comes to full view.

 _Come collect your girlfriend,_ Alex’s message says. _I’m about to disown._

Underneath it is another one of Kara’s photos, clutching a copy of CatCo Magazine from two months ago with Lena as its front cover and centerfold. She’s holding it up to her face, her lips pursed towards where Lena’s own is printed on the glossy paper.

 _I’m serious_ , Alex tells her, _Get your ass here first thing tomorrow morning!_

 _Is she drunk?_ Lena asks instead, in place of an answer. Granted, the draft only has some last minute edits left, yet, still, Lena doesn’t want to make any promises she might end up breaking. No matter how small. 

_Literally one sip. This is just her in her natural habitat. Be glad you’re missing it._

Lena chuckles at that, her laughter tapering into a soft lopsided smile because, _no_ , Lena would rather miss everything else but _that_.

…

  
  


Thankfully, Lena at least beats midnight by a good forty three minutes. It’ll give her fifteen more minutes to spare as she packs, so she can be on the road exactly six hours after.

It’s five past twelve when she finally hits her bed, her eyes drooping tiredly and her body sagging against the mattress from such a long day.

But Lena doesn’t think she’s that tired to be imagining the muted knock on her balcony door— _doesn’t_ think she’s so overworked she’s hearing _babe, are you still up_ in a voice she’d never mistake for someone else’s.

 _Doesn’t_ think she’s exhausted enough to conjure a silhouette she’d know from anywhere, when she slides out of her bed and sprints towards her balcony to check.

Yet, Kara’s _there_ , going through the motions of unlocking Lena’s door, and then she’s rushing towards Lena, her arms curling around Lena’s form in a tight embrace.

“Kara?”

Kara merely hums, chooses to dig her nose in the crook of Lena’s neck.

“Kara, what are you doing here?” Lena asks again. But her arms loop around Kara’s back as soon as she gets over her surprise, though the confusion is still evident in her tone.

“I missed you,” Kara mumbles into her neck, hot puffs of breath hitting Lena’s skin in _waves_. “And I needed my daily fix of hugs and kisses.”

Lena laughs, _wholly_ charmed. “Didn’t you get that before you left with Alex?”

“That was yesterday,” Kara says, finally emerging from her favorite spot right this moment. “It doesn’t count anymore.” 

Then, she inches forward, leaning to press a kiss on Lena’s lips, and sighing in between, because _finally_.

Lena can taste liquor in her tongue; a flavor that she’s never had before, and almost otherworldly in a sense. It makes Lena pull back as Kara peters them off with soft pecks, asks, “Are you drunk?”

“No,” Kara denies with a slow shake of her head. “I had one shot before I flew here.”

“Why would you need a shot to fly here?”

“If I say liquid courage,” Kara begins. Her hands slide down further on Lena’s back, right to a spot that’s _less_ appropriate. “Is it gonna get you naked?”

 _It’ll take far less_ , is Lena’s answer. But she doesn’t tell Kara that—of course she doesn’t. Instead, she says, “Why would you even need liquid courage?”

“I was kidding,” Kara mumbles; kisses Lena again just because she can _now_. “We were just having drinks, and Alex told me to have fun—but not too much, _Kara_ —since it’s her turn tomorrow.”

Lena nearly _yelps_ when Kara lifts her off the floor so suddenly, though she manages to smother that scream as Kara sets her down on top of her own feet.

“So I took the shot she gave me,” Kara continues, just like her thoughts even as she starts walking them towards Lena’s bedroom. “But then I realized, I wasn’t really having fun _fun_? Like, it was fun because I was with my friends, and Alex and Eliza, but—”

“But?” Lena prompts. But her fingers start playing with the soft hairs on Kara’s neck too, and it’s _distracting_ enough that Kara misses a step. It’s only thanks to her Kryptonian genes that she doesn’t send them tumbling all over the floor.

Kara tries to glare at her, yet they’re too close and Lena’s just too happy that Kara’s here for Lena to actually pay any heed to the warning.

“But?” Lena repeats instead.

“But you weren’t there, and I missed you. So I wasn’t really having the maximum amount of fun.”

It’s the back of Lena’s legs that hit the edge of her bed, though Kara floats them right on the center of the king-sized mattress instead of letting themselves fall in. “So I told Alex I was going out for a bit.”

Lena shuffles on her sport, sinking deeper into Kara’s side if anymore possible. “In your pajamas.”

“Yes, in my pjs,” Kara groans. “There’s nothing wrong with that, babe.”

The other woman merely chuckles, brushes her lips under Kara’s jaw, and grins at the ensuing shiver she coaxes out of Kara. “I never said there was.”

“Besides, I didn’t have time to change into my suit,” Kara defends, though there’s really no strength she puts in it. “I was tired and I just wanted to go to sleep with you. And now I’m here.”

“And now you’re here,” Lena repeats in a whisper brimming with tenderness and affection, matches it with the same soft smile that blossoms on Kara’s face; feels her own heart settle in contentment, like it’s finally found its way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, thank you so much for the kudos and the comments, and really, just for the chance you guys give by reading these fills <3
> 
> i'd love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/) or just talk sc head canons, or anything really
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	15. absentmindedly making me want you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> always thankful for the kudos and the comments from you lovely people <3

Alex is just about ready to drop kick the next person who’ll ring her work phone with the day she’s had. Or fire a bazooka on a fugitive alien’s way. Whichever comes first.

Not that Alex really would, but a security system malfunction that led to twenty seven hours of no sleep does things to a person.

It’s nearing three am by the time she clocks out— _lets_ herself clock out, more like. J’onn’s taken one of the sleeping quarters five minutes ago, and Brainy is nodding off in front of his workstation. Alex doesn’t have the heart to wake him, not when it feels like it’s the first time he’s closed his eyes—or even blinked, _really_ —ever since the alarms blared and the cacophony of hisses their prison gates made echoed all over the headquarters.

Running on twelve energy drinks and the last dregs of _non-DEO-issued_ coffee because some dumb idiot broke their coffee machine, Alex hops inside her car and speeds out of the half-empty parking lot. She debates driving to Kelly’s to spend what’s barely left of her night, but her girlfriend has an early day ahead and has to wake up at god-awful _six_ in the morning. And for as much as Alex loves her, she doesn’t think she can deal with that.

So Alex makes a right, past the curb and into the exit that’ll lead to her destination in mind; sends the one person she knows is still as awake as she is. Though it’s only because Kara hasn’t stopped yapping about Lena’s upcoming TED talk about L-Corp’s newest technology on their zero carbon emission initiative, and the efficacy of a diverse, female-driven workforce.

It makes Alex snort, laughing alone in her car because even halfway around the world, Lena Luthor still has her sister wrapped around her fingers.

…

  
  


She finds Kara indeed wide awake, hunched over her laptop that she’s trying to hook on to her flat screen—and _Christ_ , Alex can’t help but think, can she be anymore whipped?

It’s to that particular _struggle_ with technology that Kara doesn’t hear Alex coming in from a mile away, even with her boots dragging against Kara’s floor like it’s chained to a ball. Or maybe it’s Lena’s face on Kara’s screen, blown up and in its ridiculously, _unfairly_ , gorgeous glory, all for Alex to see.

( _That_ jawline alone might be the catalyst to _everything_ she’s been wondering about her sister for quite some time now.)

The photo’s attached to a message thread that Kara has up on her desktop. Alex can see Sam’s name on the topmost bar, and the clear as day message that pops up just below the image. _Your bff says hi. I took her phone hostage because she’s on in fifteen minutes but she won’t stop answering emails and YOUR messages_.

Alex hears a huff escape from Kara’s mouth as she moves to type a reply back, perhaps something Alex thinks she shouldn’t be reading so out in the open. So she clears her throat to warn her sister of her presence, says, “Need some help there, Kara?”

The other woman jumps so hard she almost snaps her laptop in half. Alex almost laughs, but she’s whirling around with a wild look in her eyes and a hand pressed on her chest that Alex snorts out her amusement instead. “Alex!”

“What?” Alex answers. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know I was coming! I texted you and you said, okay, and that we can watch Lena’s TED talk together!”

“I didn’t hear you knock!”

“Kara,” Alex drawls, rolling her eyes. “I could be dragging a dead body in here and you still won’t hear me knocking. Technology has defeated you.”

“ _Outdated_ ,” Kara defends, feeling slightly offended at the notion. The Girl of Steel may have a handful of weaknesses, but she refuses to let something she _actually_ knows like the back of her hand be one of them. “And no, I don’t need help. The _gosh darn_ cable’s become too loose it just keeps falling out. But, thanks anyway.”

“So buy a new one,” Alex says, highlighting her point with a gesture of her hands. But her arms suddenly remind her that she’s on her _twenty-eighth_ sleepless hour now, feels like she’s lifting lead and not her very own limb. So she shrugs her leather jacket off and hooks it on the nearby coat rack; toes her boots off and heads barefoot to Kara’s kitchen for some last minute snack before she inevitably falls asleep on Kara’s couch.

(As much as she likes Lena—in awe of her, even—Alex’s self-preservation instincts are finally starting to kick in.)

“I have a new one,” Alex hears Kara say. Though her words are muffled by the scant distance and the faint squeak Kara’s cupboard makes as Alex yanks it open. “But it’s at Lena’s place. I keep forgetting to bring it home.”

Alex really wouldn’t think anything of it. It’s become _usual_ now, so ingrained in her sister’s routine that Alex would be more surprised if Kara isn’t leaving her stuff at Lena’s.

But she’s also staring at five different flavors of kale chips that are taking up half of Kara’s snack cabinet, two of which Alex swears say _Made in Germany_ on their indeed very foreign-looking packaging.

She stares at it—the gears in her head starting to push through the sluggish haze that the lack of sleep has blanketed her mind with—as she reaches blankly for one of the Cheetos packs on the other side of the cabinet.

It’s Kara’s triumphant yell that breaks her reverie, and the low sound now coming from the TV that follows it. She picks up Lena’s name once or twice on her way back to Kara’s couch, in posh English accents that Alex is admittedly not used to hearing.

Kara’s already perched comfortably on her favorite spot, buried beneath a fluffy comforter that probably costs more than a month’s worth of paycheck and her favorite pillows. She’s got a spoonful of yogurt in her mouth, but Alex waits for her to take a second bite before asking, “So, kale, huh? You in a health kick now or?”

Alex has banked on the disgusted wince that quickly pulls at Kara’s face, has foreseen the revolted grimace that twists her lips over her huge helping of Greek yogurt—once a _Lena thing_ too that her sister has embraced.

She already knows the _answer_ , but Alex thinks they really do have to get to the _why_ sooner rather than later. Even though it’s staring the both of them right on their faces, spelled _MIT_ in all caps on the front of the hoodie Kara has on, and staying up for an hour-long TED talk airing in between twilight and dawn.

“ _Ew_ , no,” Kara refutes, sputtering almost. But it all changes in the next second. Like everything’s fine and dandy despite the existence of something Kara finds so repulsive she’d even considered banning it from her apartment once upon a game night. “It’s Lena’s. She always complains about not having anything to eat when she gets snacky, especially during movie nights.”

“Because you _inhale_ all the popcorn?”

Kara sighs. “Because I inhale all the popcorn.”

Alex throws a quick glance at the TV, noting the time at Kara’s desktop that’s still on display since she hasn’t turned the video stream to full screen yet. There’s still a good four minutes before Lena gets called up on stage, and Alex figures it’s as good a time as any to finally ask. “Is there something you want to tell me, Kara? Like, anything at all?”

Kara, in turn, dips her chin, gazing down at her mugfull of yogurt like it’s the most interesting thing in the room. But it’s the way Kara plays with the spoon that tells Alex of _guilt_ , churning food that Kara actually likes inside the mug instead of gobbling through it.

So Alex says, “It’s okay, you know. You can tell me anything.”

Kara lets out a long, troubled sigh, unknowingly sending a jolt of ache straight to Alex’s chest. She’s been on _this_ journey before, down on the very same road, and Alex _knows_ it never gets easy.

But she waits patiently, watching as Kara sets her mug down and forgets about food entirely; fiddles with her glasses and then her fingers. Until she takes a purposeful sigh and braves speaking. “I do,” she says. “But you have to promise me that you won’t get mad.”

Alex extends her hand, giving Kara’s own a tight squeeze; swallows thickly, then, “Why would I even be mad about that?”

Part of her is already combing through as many memories as she can, trying to pin an exact point in time that she has unknowingly told her sister that she wouldn’t be okay with _this_ , of all things. 

She _aches_ at that thought. 

But Alex’s brain is also failing her right now, so she just darts her free hand out, curling it around their clasped hands for more show of support.

Kara then twists slightly, throwing her sister a hesitant look. She gnaws at her bottom lip, a telltale sign that she’s sifting through her thoughts. But Lena’s name slips from the hosts’ lips again, and it pushes Kara to speak. “Because I broke the coffee machine?”

“You—” Alex’s mouth falls open, the confession coming so out of nowhere she’s honestly at a loss on what to say; ends up picking the very first word that comes to mind. “What?”

“I’m sorry!” Kara squeals. “I was trying to get some coffee, but then Lena called and it was like, one in the morning in Milan! And I haven’t talked to her all day and I didn’t want to miss it! But my mug got stuck and I may have pulled a little too hard.”

“Th—that’s—” Alex stumbles, fumbling through the abrupt turn of their conversation, and almost physically feels her brain struggling to catch up. “You broke—but that wasn’t what I was—I’m sorry, what now?”

“I broke the coffee machine!” Her sister repeats. “I’m gonna pay you back, I promise.”

“But, kale—”

The sound of applause suddenly rings through the quiet of Kara’s living room, blaring through Kara’s television and effectively cutting Alex’s thoughts off. Both their gazes dart towards the screen, watching as Lena takes the stage—and inevitably everyone’s hearts.

“Huh?” Kara mumbles, already distracted enough. “Do you want the kale chips too? I got them from this one shop in Frankfurt. I can get you some when I go back.”

“No, it’s—” Alex tries again. But in the end, she just laughs; sighs and shakes her head as she says, “Nothing. Don’t mind me. And don’t worry about the coffee machine. It badly needed replacing anyway. You just gave me a good reason for J’onn to grant an upgrade.”

Because she trusts Kara to carve her own path and make her own journey in her own time. So for now, she’ll let Lena’s soothing voice lull her to a good night’s sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more of a danvers sisters moment, but this still counts as sc right? haha also, kale is there! (i should really write fills that are about the actual prompt lmao)
> 
> i'd love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/) or just talk sc head canons, or anything really
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	16. you’re out there killin’ the game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still thankful for your kudos and lovely comments, you lovely people <3

The last thing Lena needs is a break.

In between spearheading L-Corp’s deal with NASA on the research and development of advanced rocket engines and more efficient fuels, and their precarious position in the Asian stock market with the _Ghost Month_ in its last two weeks, Lena thinks she should be spending each and every second of her week back in her office.

But instead she’s _here_ , perched on one of the side benches in a grassy pitch, sweating under the _light_ heat of the sun in the most comfortable pieces of clothing that she owns.

Sam had told her to dress _casual_ , just as she was barging in on Lena’s office and _practically_ dragging her out. As if her silk top and dark wash jeans weren’t casual enough.

Lena had tried to argue, but her best friend made a very good point about being in heels on _a fucking Saturday, Lena, for God’s sake_ , before Sam all but slammed her laptop closed and tugged her out of her chair.

She’d driven her home, pushed her into her walk-in closet and pulled out a red and black flannel Lena didn’t even remember she owns; shoved it in her arms as Sam instructed her to change, in a voice she’d probably practiced on Ruby a thousand times that even Lena couldn’t help but heed to.

Fifteen minutes and a quick drive-through for coffee later, Lena finds herself sitting right next to Sam, her eyes tracking the trajectory of a black and white ball as it sailed from one foot to the feet of perhaps the most attractive blonde woman Lena has ever laid her eyes on.

Beside her, Sam yells at the top of her lungs; cups her hands around her mouth as she cheers for Alex who’s jetting from midfield and into the right wing, calling for the ball at her spot that’s now suddenly open.

“Dear God,” Lena groans, rolling her eyes when Sam nearly jostles her over in excitement. It has her losing track of the prettiest blonde woman in existence, though Lena manages to find her easily— _thankfully_. Her ponytail, and the _Danvers_ spelled in all caps in her red and blue jersey above _23_ are like beacons that Lena can’t help but be drawn to.

And it has Lena chiding her best friend. “It’s just a scrimmage game!”

Sam merely ignores her surly disposition and passes her a cold Gatorade bottle from the nearby cooler. “And you need to get into the spirit.”

“It’s a _scrimmage_ ,” Lena repeats dryly. “Besides, I don’t know enough about soccer to actually enjoy it.”

Sam just shoots her an unamused look in response. “I can tell. The most casual shirt you own is a _fucking_ Dior.”

“Do you kiss Ruby with that mouth?” Lena tries to lob back a retort. But she and Sam are best friends for a reason, and it’s not only for their shared sense of sarcasm.

“No. But Alex—”

Lena raises a hand up, pinches the bridge of her nose with the other. “Do _not_ even think about finishing that sentence.”

“You’re in a real buzzkill mood today,” Sam replies, more entertained than anything.

“Maybe because I had plans—”

“Working on a Saturday _isn’t_ plans,” she cuts off quickly. “The same way that a night with your vibrator _isn’t_ a date.”

“You do know I can leave anytime, right?” Lena snaps back. “We drove here? On my car?”

(But maybe Sam does have a point, when this isn’t even her best friend at her worst. It’s perfectly in line with Sam’s usual teasing, and yet, Lena already feels like she’s reaching the end of her thread.)

“ _God_ , will you relax?” Sam says, punctuated by short laughs in between. She grabs the still unopened bottle Lena’s set next to her and twists the cap open, handing it back to her best friend. “Here, take a sip because I didn’t bring any chill pills.”

Lena just grunts in answer, but does take the offered drink with a grumbled _thank you_. She’s two sips in and perusing the field once more for _Danvers 23_ when she feels Sam nudging at her again, pointing towards the one person Lena has been trying to find. “Look, Kara’s about to score.”

 _Kara_ , Lena mouths in repeat—likes the way it slips out of her tongue so she mouths it twice more. _Kara. Kara_. Like it’s something she’s meant to be saying, _calling_ out loud. 

All the while, her eyes follow Kara’s every move. From the way she shuffles the ball in her feet trying to get past one _defender_ —Lena vaguely remembers, gleaning from the one or two soccer matches she’s seen in her entire twenty eight years of existence—to how she flicks the ball upwards until it curves over the defender’s head.

“Oh my god, a _fucking_ rainbow,” Sam gasps, a sound Lena can’t help but echo. “That’s a _fucking_ Tobin Heath move! You can’t just do that, Kara!”

“Who do you think taught her that?” Alex yells from across the field, beaming with pride.

A titter rolls from the players in the midfield and further back, who all seemingly stopped moving to watch the rest of the play unfold. Kara bursts past an equally stunned defender, catching up to the ball that she then kicks right in between another defender’s legs.

An ensuing roar of cheers erupt from their small crowd, coupled with Sam’s yells and Lena’s bated breath.

“It’s the wrong Danvers showing off, babe!”

Then, it’s down to the goalkeeper and her, and ironically, letting the ball soar towards the right corner seems to be the easiest part out of the entire play. 

Because Kara’s made it look so easy. Like nothing existed between that goal and her, and Lena briefly wonders what it’d be like, being on the receiving end of that _particular_ kind of attention.

(Perhaps, Lena loathes to admit, her best friend is really onto something about her needing to _relax_.)

Kara’s team explodes in loud cries, shouts of triumph mixing with complete disbelief over what has transpired the last three minutes. A couple of groans lace in the cacophony of victory yells, heavily accented voices moaning about how the National Team _really_ is on their way to claiming another World Cup star.

The rest of Kara’s teammates run—Lena supposes they are, or else it’d be strange if they’re _not_ and yet they’re celebrating the goal; but what does Lena know, really— from different directions and all towards Kara, piling on top of her and jumping over.

Kara takes all the jostling with a _surprising_ amount of strength—to Lena, at least—even when number eight, _Nal_ , jumps on Kara’s back without any form of warning. Right as her head is being locked inside one of Alex’s arms, Alex rubbing her knuckles on the top of her hair.

A loud whistle signals the halftime break, though it doesn’t necessarily cease the celebrations and all around chatter about how amazing the last play for goal was. Lena’s even inclined to agree that it’ll be the talk for the weeks.

When the team _does_ break off, they all head towards where the coolers are. Save for Kara who reaches for her own water bottle that’s resting a few seats away from where Lena currently is, squeezing some of it into her mouth in a perfect stream—that shouldn’t even be possible, but maybe Kara really _does_ defy everything—and then twisting the cap off to dump the rest of it on her face.

It shouldn’t be _that_ attractive, Lena thinks. It’s simply water dripping from a jaw and chin chiseled by _maybe_ the gods themselves, down to a smooth neck and a broad chest, ultimately pooling on a crest in the shape of a diamond with an _S_ inside, stretched to the edges.

(Lena supposes it stands for _Supers_ , a very befitting name for everything that Lena’s witnessed today.)

Then, Kara flips the hem of her practice jersey up to wipe her face clean, revealing tan skin and a _sight_ that sends white hot heat to the base of Lena’s spine. It has her reaching for her own bottle of water and a new one from the cooler, has her sauntering down to where Kara is fixing herself up, armed with a fresh drink and her smile.

Lena means to say something _confident_ , something worth the reputation she’s gained from inside the boardroom. But then Kara smiles as she sees her, like she’s bringing her _Fillico_ and not Gatorade, and everything else inside Lena just _melts_. So she says, “Nice rainbow.”

Kara drops her shirt back into place—much to Lena’s _displeasure_ —to take the fresh bottle Lena offers; replies, “Thanks! I worked real hard on it. And I had great teachers.”

A part of Lena’s tempted to say she’d love for Kara to teach her _things_ too, and it’s all thanks to Lena’s well-practiced self-control that it doesn’t slip out. “It shows,” she tells her instead, the corner of her lips curved to a smirk. “Kara, right?”

“That’s me,” Kara replies, her answering smile completely dorky as she points two thumbs towards herself. “And you’re Lena, right? Sam told me she’s bringing her friend Lena today.”

“I am indeed that friend,” Lena confirms, biting at her bottom lip when silence dawns on them after. But it’s not the uncomfortable kind. If anything, it’s the most peace Lena feels like she’s had the last few weeks.

Kara takes a sip off the bottle, then swipes her tongue out to clear her own lips of stray drops. “Sam didn’t tell me she’s bringing a really pretty friend, golly. I would’ve, I don’t know, dressed better.”

Lena lets out a soft laugh at that, feeling incredibly charmed though she refuses to show it. Yet she knows the flush on her cheeks tell Kara anyway.

Perhaps it’s what bolsters Kara’s confidence, a wider, more confident smile shaping up as she asks, “But maybe I can make up for the lack of better clothing over dinner.” Though she loses it just as quickly, at the amused arch of Lena’s brow and the quirk of Lena’s lips to stifle the grin she refuses to let out. Her hand scratches the back of her neck, then, “If you want. Some time.”

“That depends,” Lena says after a beat.

“On what?”

“If you can score another goal.”

Kara stares at her—throws her a look that pretty much says _is that really what you’re asking_. And it’s probably a peak of what Lena’s gonna be in for when Kara ups the ante instead of just saying _yes_. “Tell you what. I’ll give you a hat trick, and then you’ll have to come to one of my games.”

“And if you don’t?”

“Then it’ll just be dinner. I’ll just have to charm my way into making you watch one of my games.”

It’s Lena who takes a sip from her bottle this time, every move filled with a seductive flair and charged with meaning. “You’ve got yourself a deal then, Miss Danvers.”

…

  
  


“Tobin Heath?” Lena asks later. _Later_ , after the whistle blows again and the players return to the field for the second half.

 _Later_ , when Kara throws her one last meaningful look and a sultry smile before shedding _that_ skin as she steps back into the pitch, her game face back on. And Lena’s breath is hers once more, her heart no longer beating triple time and in erratic ways that suspiciously sounds like Kara’s name.

“Only one of the legends in Women’s Soccer! Happily married to another legend, Christen Press. But she’s a different topic that also deserves an entire day of gushing,” Sam quickly explains. “Because the main point here is that we really need you to get up to speed with these things, especially if you’re going to date that nerd out there about to do another goal celebration pose. _Jesus,_ Kara, it’s been a hot minute since the half started! What did you say to her, Lena?!”

“Nothing,” Lena replies, feigning an innocent look. “She just has _something_ riding on how well the second half goes for her.”

“Something tells me she won’t be the one doing the riding _when_ it all goes well,” Sam quips teasingly. But it turns into a groan as she catches Kara’s goal celebration pose Kara thought she’s _wittingly_ dubbed as _the Supergirl_. “And we’re docking major points out here.”

“What do you mean _docking_?” Lena says. “I happen to think it’s cute.”

“Of course you would. Nerd and nerd,” Sam replies. “I knew I was right when I told Alex you’d be a perfect match.”

“You took me here to get a date?”

“I took you here to _get laid_ ,” she corrects. “You’re the one who’s thinking of dates.”

Lena refuses to dignify that with a response.

…

  
  


_One more_ , Lena thinks then, and it’d be two dates right off the bat. And Lena _hates_ it when Sam is right.

…

  
  


Kara scores her third straight off a _banger_ , the ball soaring at breakneck speed all the way from the midfield and kicked just outside the box. Kara cuts it to her left to lose a defender, and tucks it in near the left post with a beautiful arc that the goalkeeper can’t do anything about.

Alex thinks she’s really just showing off now. Sam thinks Lena _thinks_ the sunshine is now coming out of Kara’s ass. But Lena only thinks she can’t wait for date night.

…

  
  


A year and half later, Kara kisses her in _Parc Olympique Lyonnais_ , in the middle of a roaring crowd that almost brings the stadium down, a gold medal hooked on Kara’s neck and Kara’s last name on Lena’s back.

Lena sends her back to her team with another kiss, watches her with beaming pride as Kara receives her Golden Boot and Golden Ball awards, and nearly cries when Kara lifts the Cup along with the rest of her teammates before blowing Lena a kiss.

But Lena still _hates_ it when Sam is right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is also alternatively known as i wrote an entire universe just for that one scene (you all know which scene is it) lmao
> 
> i'd love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/) or just talk sc head canons, or anything really
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	17. i’m setting off, but not without my muse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the kudos and the comments!!! <3

When the Girl of Steel nearly rips the chopper door off its hinges, she never expected something— _someone_ so beautiful.

Granted, Lena Luthor is a disheveled mess, hair ruffled and still reeling from an attempt in her life, and Kara’s delivering her the kind of news she never would want to give to anyone, _ever_ , Kara’s brain still somehow manages to think Lena Luthor is the most beautiful human being she has ever seen.

With her green eyes and their flecks of blue, reminding Kara of the Northern Lights at night. And the red of her lips that makes Kara’s blood _sing_.

And then she goes and saves Alex’s life, and Kara thinks she might’ve just fallen in love for the first time.

…

  
  


There is a point—a _moment_ in their still very new and very tentative friendship where Kara thought she’d lose Lena even before she really had her.

She’s standing right next to her mother, hand poised over a key hanging from a silver chain that’s sticking out of a black box. And at the mercy of Lena’s fingers is Kara’s fate as well as the rest of the aliens on Earth.

Still, Kara finds her absolutely _breathtaking_ , even when she says _I’m a Luthor_ , in this tone of voice that echoes something from beneath. As if despite everything and every single good she’s done, people will never really see her as anything else but _that_.

(Maybe, Kara has never found her so beautiful then.)

It’s as loud as the bursting sound the rocket makes as it gets propelled from its hold and straight to the sky. Kara has to throw Lena one last look— _one last try_ before shooting off after the rocket and dropping half of Kara’s heart right at Lena’s feet.

The other half is lodged in her throat, cracking like the ground she lands on when she fails to stop the rocket from exploding. It unleashes a violent, fiery orange cloud that covers the entire city, tiny embers falling around them like burning snow.

Kara heaves in a deep breath, perhaps her last. She takes one more look at Lena, standing a few steps behind her mother, and Kara can’t help but wonder, if she knew she were to die by Lena’s hand, would she have chosen differently?

And Kara doesn’t know what to make of _that_ part of her that tells her _no_.

…

  
  


She _doesn’t_ die. None of them do.

But now, it’s Lena who has a giant target painted on her back, and it makes Kara forget how to breathe sometimes, in a completely _bad_ way. Like she’s the one losing air when she hears the bloodcurdling scream Lena lets out as she plummets down after getting pushed over her balcony. 

She’s the one losing sleep because Lena’s been kidnapped and not one of them has any clues of where she is. The one feeling bone-weary when Lena ingests coffee laced with poison and Alex almost doesn’t get to her in time.

The one who doesn’t feel right when she begins dating Mon-El; who sees nothing but _red_ when she learns that Lena’s now dating James.

It’s become a pattern that Kara is so desperate to break. But all she gets from the universe are tiny moments in between, quiet nights she spends with her best friend that Kara wishes to carry on till morning.

Because despite _everything_ , Kara doesn’t— _can’t_ find someone else as equally beautiful and wonderful as Lena Luthor.

And half of her wonders if this is the universe’s way of telling her something.

…

  
  


As is with all things coming to a head, _something_ has to give. And in Kara’s case, it’s _her_.

It’s just like any normal night, normal for them at least. The city’s surprisingly quiet, or subdued enough that Alex tells her to take the rest of the afternoon off. She leaves the DEO in her _Kara_ clothes, passing by Lena’s favorite pastry shop from around the block because the first thing that’s come to her mind once Alex lets her go is to bring Lena donuts.

Lena’s surprised, of course, when Hector shows Kara in. Kara can’t really blame her for that, not over something she so spontaneously decided on. But Lena’s not unwelcoming either, unknowingly filling Kara with affection and warmth when she instructs Hector to move the rest of her meetings for the day to the next.

She’s making room for Kara like she’s been making room for her presence in her life. And Kara really feels like she needs to do something about that soon, before the chance passes her by and she misses it for good.

So she braves the unknown for once, wading through the uncertainty and asks, “Can I take you somewhere later?”

But maybe, Lena’s answering smile is the only kind of certainty Kara needs.

…

  
  


Somewhere up in the northern side of the city, there’s a small cliff side clearing that Kara likes to frequent when she has the time. And with the clear skies the near-evening has gifted them with, Kara figures she shouldn’t waste it. 

She lands them carefully on the grassy patch, surrounded by all kinds and all colors of wildflowers. Really, Kara would say something about how very _Twilight_ it is, if she knew the meaning wouldn’t get lost on her best friend entirely.

(Not that she’s some sort of lion falling in love with a lamb, or something equally _Shakespearean_.)

Lena’s heels crunch against the ground as she approaches the edge, looking breathless at the sight of _their_ city so alive, bright lights starting to sparkle like a sea of stars.

But she only really permits herself to look around when she feels Kara’s solid presence right next to her. Up the sky and then down, sighing happily at the serene air that wraps around her, and the feeling of warmth and safety that Kara always brings.

“We can sit at the edge if you want,” Kara tells her, smile soft and unchanging since the first time they’ve met. “You don’t have to be afraid. I won’t let you fall.”

And really, how can Lena say no to that?

They sit side by side, feet dangling free and loose. Their shoes rest on somewhere behind them—because some things are just in good sense—while the paper bag full of donuts Kara has bought is sitting in the small space that separates them.

Kara’s not chomping on one, though. But Lena doesn’t ask about that rare circumstance. They both choose to sit in the comfortable silence, settling into a spell that neither of them really wants to break. Not when Lena finds peace while sitting next to Kara on a cliff side, in the middle of an almost empty space; and Kara finds the answer to the age-long question of having chosen differently.

(It’s no. It has always been no.)

Yet, there’s a part of Lena that can’t help the _marvel_ of the view from slipping out, can’t stop herself from saying, “It’s so beautiful.”

Slowly, Kara turns her head to look at her. But Lena’s too transfixed with the setting sun in its full glow that pours the perfect hue to meet Kara’s eyes.

It’s casting a pink hue now, like the softest beam of Rao’s light, and it hits Lena just right that all Kara can think of to say amidst the pang in her chest is, “Yeah.”

Her eyes grow fond, and so does her smile. “Beautiful.”

…

  
  


“Do you have a favorite place? Out of all the ones you’ve been to?”

Lena feels more than sees Kara inch closer to her, paper bag crinkling beneath the press of Kara’s hips near to hers before Kara answers. “There was another cliff I stumbled through in Norway. It was low and the bottom was surrounded by thick trees filled with snow. But I could see this really beautiful lake whenever I looked down. And the stars if I looked up. Kinda like this.”

Lena turns her head, looking at the other woman quizzically because she was expecting something like Greece, or somewhere equally _touristy_. “Really?”

“It also had the clearest view of the Northern Lights,” Kara sighs. And it’s deep, Lena notes. “They’ve—they’ve always reminded me of someone.”

Lena can only nod in answer. She doesn’t ask who _someone_ is exactly—or more like _can’t_ , not when her throat suddenly feels incredibly dry and her tongue is sticking to the roof of her mouth. And a part of her starts to wonder, perforce, if it’s someone Kara had spent those nights watching the Northern Lights with.

 _Like this_. 

A pang of ache squeezes her heart at the mere thought; _nameless_ , yet so strong and so sudden that she almost wants to gasp for air.

But Kara has finally managed to tear her eyes away from the glimmering sky before she gets the chance; and she’s now looking at Lena with a nervous gleam in her eyes and a shaky smile.

“Do you want to know what it reminds me of?” Kara continues. Lena has to swallow down a protest, and the nod she permits Kara with is almost helpless. Because of course Lena _wants_ to know. She’ll always want to know _everything_ about Kara. “Your eyes.”

Oh. 

_Oh._

The ache in her chest subsides just as quickly as it has appeared. Lena feels herself answer with a smile of her own. Slow at first but it grows and grows and grows as she lets her hand close the small distance between hers and Kara’s, the pad of her thumb running gentle circles on the inside of Kara’s wrist. “Kara.”

“That’s why I wanted to bring you here, I guess. To tell you. Stuff. Things,” Kara says. She shifts on her seat, covering Lena’s hand with the one Lena isn’t holding and squeezing it tightly. “But it’s fine, too. If you don’t want me to talk about it. I can just sit here with you. Watch the sunset. Or bring you home, if you want to leave.”

“Kara,” Lena whispers. Her fingers flex, aching to lace them with Kara’s. So she does. Her other hand moves to cup Kara’s cheek, her heart pulsing in its place when Kara Leans into the touch and closes her eyes to let herself feel Lena’s warmth. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I’m sorry it took me a while,” Kara says; leans into Lena’s hand some more so she can press a kiss to the delicate base of Lena’s thumb. An earnest apology for all the time they’ve wasted dancing around the blurred line in between friendship and something more.

“But you’re here now,” Lena says, ducking to meet Kara’s eyes. “We’ll figure it out.”

And _oh_ , there she is, the whole of Kara’s heart in Northern Lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOFT HOURS FOR LENA LUTHOR [OPEN]
> 
> i'd love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/) or just talk sc head canons, or anything really
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	18. something so magic about you, don’t you agree?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still blown away by the amount of support these fills are getting! thank you all so much!

It starts with a succulent. 

Kara has been looking for something to liven up her desk at work when Nia suggests to get a plant, instead of the goldfish Kara has been thinking of for a while now. 

Never mind that Kara is already calling it _Harley Finn_ in her head, or that Kara has picked out a specific type of fish to get—a fancy _fantail_ —and which bowl she’d put it in exactly—a narrow-mouthed one with a tiny castle and colorful stones inside, nothing but befitting because _Harley Finn_ is queen. 

One glance at Snapper Carr’s grumpy face is all it takes, as he passes by Kara’s desk and the lid of his coffee cup is pressed against the snarl on his lips, for Kara to think that maybe Nia’s right.

So she takes a right turn once work is over for the day, instead of the usual left she cuts through that leads to her block’s pet store; arrives at a tiny storefront that prefaces a larger greenhouse garden annexed behind it. 

_From Eden_ is nestled in between a modern coffee house and a salad stop, looking so out of place and sticking out like one of those old shops Kara’s only ever read in books, with its dark green accent and modest Victorian windows.

There’s a row of succulents and other potted plants in front of the shop, lined up neatly in a low display bench. They come in various kinds and sizes, but all small enough that they don’t obscure the rest of the plants and the flower arrangements displayed inside the store.

Kara bends down a tad bit to inspect the plant row, tries to find something that’s to her liking. But the number of plants to choose from is admittedly a little too overwhelming, so she steps inside the shop, opting for some very obvious needed assistance because she feels so out of depth she might just forget about everything entirely.

The bell hanging by the jamb chimes just as the door clicks shut behind her. It’s succeeded by a soft, velvety voice coming from inside the greenhouse, wafting to Kara’s ears like a melody Kara didn’t even know she’d been waiting to hear.

“Be with you in a minute!”

Kara nods in response, more of a nervous habit than anything else. She knows she really shouldn’t be anxious at all, but taking care of a plant is also taking care of another life form in her books, and that will always bring Kara some form of anxiety.

More rustling echoes inside the garden, a grumbled _shit_ that Kara can’t help but giggle at. It feels a little like eavesdropping without meaning to, so Kara busies herself with taking stock of the humble shop she’s never had the pleasure of visiting until today.

There are little stands along the walls, filled with more potted plants and every assortment of flowers Kara’s ever known. At the center are two tables with ample space in between, littered with vine plants and tiny ones labeled _money trees_ , to which Kara briefly debates getting one too.

(But she has never taken care of any plant before, and Kara would absolutely hate it if she ends up killing _two_ on her very first try. So maybe Kara should put off _fortune_ for the meantime.)

The shop is very neat and well-kept, so far unlike how she’s imagined it would be. It’s no _Hogwarts_ , but there’s magic in it that’s enough to keep Kara rooted to where she is. 

Until she spots the succulent that’s nearest to the counter. It’s housed in a brown pot, with two roundish globes at its bottom and a tall protruding part with a dome-shaped top. It looks suspiciously _obscene_ that Kara feels the ensuing blush on her cheeks, heat spreading all over her face as she whispers _golly_ under her breath.

She flushes so hard she doesn’t hear the soft thud of boots against the floorboards, and almost jumps out of her skin as the same soft, velvety voice suddenly fills the air.

“I see you’ve found my most prized plant to date.”

Kara whips around, narrowly missing the potted plant. She’d half-expected to be faced with Professor Sprout, what with the newcomer seemingly popping out of nowhere, but instead she’s met with the very face who Kara thinks could launch a hundred thousand ships.

 _Golly_.

Her brain kicks backup probably a little too long, and she’s left staring at the woman now standing in front of her. Hair as dark as the night and eyes as bright as the stars that light it.

“Is that—do you want to buy it?” The woman says, growing a little hesitant. But _God_ , Kara hopes she’s not creeped out because Kara doesn’t, _doesn’t_ mean to stare. She’s just physically unable to _not_ to. “Because I sort of put it there as a joke, but, if you really want it—”

“No!” Kara squeaks. The abashed look is back on her face—can feel the fire engine redness crawling from her neck and up to color her cheeks; feels herself wilt at the amused gaze the shop owner throws her. “It’s—no, not this one, thank you.”

“Well, what do you need? I’m here to help.”

And then she smiles, and Kara feels _something_ bloom inside her chest.

…

  
  


_Lena_ , Kara finds out later on, isn’t just someone who knows a thing or two about plants. She’s _Chloris_ herself, wrapped in a beige cashmere sweater and navy blue jeans.

Kara could listen to her talk all day, about how some succulents can go three months without water and some of them even six, that tulips were once worth more than gold in Holland. About how sunflowers aren’t giant flowers, but _florets_ that form the flowers themselves.

She glides inside the shop like a goddess in a wildflower field, fingers brushing tenderly on every piece of blossom she passes by. And Kara’s the mere mortal who finds her _ethereal_.

“You still haven’t told me what you need,” Lena then says. She stops by a row of colorful flowers Kara has no idea what are called, but it’s quite the sight that Kara still stammers through a reply.

“Uhm—a plant.”

Lena laughs softly. “I gathered.”

It coaxes another shade of pink that tints Kara’s cheek, scratching her neck in lieu of scuffing her shoes against the floor. “Something that I can't kill?”

“Well, that depends,” Lena replies with a playful shrug. “Are you actively killing it or just pretty bad at taking care of it? Because I can only help you with one of those.”

“How do you even _actively_ kill a plant?” Kara blurts out loud. “More importantly, _why_?”

Lena simply sighs, eyes growing doleful that Kara wants to take the last three seconds back. “You’d be surprised.”

“Well I wouldn’t,” Kara quickly assures. “I actually would love for it to outlive me, you know?”

Lena cocks her head as she looks at Kara like she’s trying to gauge her—find where Kara’s heart really _lies_ because something just seems so _unreal_ about her, though Lena’s unable to pinpoint it yet exactly.

(It’s there on Kara’s chest, but there are _pieces_ in every little thing she loves.)

Then, she offers Kara an affable smile and leads her into the garden, says, “I think I’ve got just the perfect one for you.”

…

  
  


Lena sends her home with three things: a tiny Rebutia with a red flower in full bloom, a thin pamphlet with instructions of how to care for succulents that she finds out the next second Lena has personally made, and a tiny bundle of white camellias that Lena insists are on the house.

Yet Kara feels like she’s gotten more, like Lena’s smile that’s now living in her mind and frequenting her dreams, and the _nameless_ blossom in her chest that Kara still doesn’t know what to do with.

…

  
  


The succulent— _Scarlett Johanthorns_ —doesn’t die. It’s both a miracle and a personal achievement that Kara would like to celebrate, so naturally, she goes to buy another one.

She finds Lena at the front of her store, hunched over the row of plants on display as she refills the now vacant spots. She seems a little surprised when she sees Kara, biting at her bottom lip to stifle a laugh as she says, “Please tell me you haven’t killed it yet.”

“Oh, no! No, no,” Kara assuages, laughing at herself, too. “ScarJo’s fine.”

“ScarJo?”

“Scarlett Johanthorns,” Kara mumbles; fiddles with her glasses when Lena’s soft chuckle fills the space in between them.

“That’s brilliant.”

“Thank you,” Kara says with a flush that’s beginning to seem like it’s perpetually present whenever Lena’s around.

“And I suppose you don’t want ScarJo to get lonely?”

Kara laughs at that, nods at Lena, then, “It’s like you read my mind.”

…

  
  


ScarJo meets _Eva Echeveria_ , a perle von nurnberg that Kara just thinks is _absolutely_ perfect. And so are the light red carnations Lena’s given her that never fails to remind Kara of the shade of Lena’s lips.

…

  
  


The week after, her name gets printed on the byline of CatCo’s upcoming monthly issue. Another achievement that she punctuates with another addition to her slowly growing collection of potted succulents.

Lena gives her a Flaming Katy and a sweet congratulatory smile, matches it with purple heathers that makes Kara’s heart skip _beats_.

…

  
  


“Why From Eden?”

Lena looks up from the potted plants she’s currently wrapping—two new ones that Kara’s just bought—humming instead in lieu of a reply.

Kara stoops down, leaning against the counter and looking up at Lena. “I mean, why’d you name it From Eden?”

“Because From Elysium didn’t sound catchy enough,” Lena explains. “And From Hesperides sounds more daunting than, well, inviting. So I picked the next, next best thing I could think of.”

Kara purses her lips, nods. “That makes sense.”

“And you?”

“Me?” Kara says, frowning in confusion. “What about me?”

Lena’s quiet for the next few beats, a pensive look on her face as Kara stares at her—and forgets to breathe in the process because Lena’s up close and all Kara wants is to push herself forward, take that little leap of faith she’s been trying to take for months now but keeps failing to.

But the moment passes, and Lena’s saying, “Nothing. Just trying to figure something out.”

Later, when Kara gets home and she lines the new plants along with the others inside the plant box that she now keeps, she stares at the white violets Lena’s slipped into the paper bag she’s packed the potted plants after wrapping them up; can’t help but feel like she’s missing something overly significant.

…

  
  


“Kara, we need to talk.”

Kara jumps from the slam of her apartment’s door, dropping the watering can she’s busying herself with at the loud _thud_. It’s an early morning routine now, her few moments of peace before the chaos of her Saturday starts.

But her sister seems to have different plans, bursting in on Kara’s door only for Alex to stop and look around the now plant-filled space.

Because, _Christ_ , Nia was right.

“Alex!” Kara chides, picking the water can up before it spills more water on her floor.

Alex merely pulls a chair on Kara’s dining table in response, and then pulls another one, cocks her head towards Kara in a gesture for her to come and sit. 

Kara follows, albeit a little hesitantly. “What about?”

“Nia tells me you’re a plant mom now,” Alex says, making a show of looking around and eyeing the various plants littered in Kara’s apartment. “Clearly.”

“I mean,” Kara begins, though her voice is the kind of weak that Alex sees through right away. “I guess I wanted to try taking care of one, but then I happened to like it.”

“So, this isn’t about the woman who owns the shop? Nothing about her at all?” Alex says. “Because I’ve seen her and, let me tell you, she’s totally _your_ type.”

Kara slumps down on her seat, heaves a deep breath that has her squeezing her knees. There’s really no use _denying_ , when the proof is staring them both right on their faces. So she groans, dropping her head on the table with a loud whine. “I like her, Alex.”

“I figured,” Alex says, in a voice that’s a mix of sympathy and amusement. “Your entire apartment is a garden built in her name.”

Kara just groans again.

“Have you tried to, you know, ask her out?”

She twists her head, throws her sister a glare that screams _do you really think I will have this many plants if I had_.

“I don’t even know if she wants to get asked out.”

Alex sucks at her teeth, drumming her fingers against Kara’s table and letting Kara stew on her thoughts for a few beats.

“Did you know,” Alex then says. She fishes her phone from the pocket of her jeans, makes a few taps on the screen before turning it towards Kara to see. Kara rights herself up in turn, confusion taking over her face when Alex pulls up the picture Kara’s sent her of the first ever flower Lena has given her. “That flowers have meanings? They’re all on Google, by the way.”

“I know that,” Kara defends. And it _is_ the absolute truth. But if she bothered with searching about the meanings is an entirely different story that she’s only just realizing now.

“If you did,” Alex continues, zooming in on the white camellias. “You’d know that this flower literally says _you’re adorable_.”

She swipes to the next image where the light red carnations are. “Admiration.”

And it goes on like that, where Alex swipes and swipes and swipes, and Kara gets different variations of _admiration_ , _loveliness_ , and _there’s sunshine in your smile_. Until they get to the white violets that Kara’s gotten last.

“What about this one?”

“Taking chances,” Alex answers with a small smile. “I think it’s pretty clear, right?”

“I—”

“Because I honestly doubt she means your innocence and purity. Like, that’d be the last thing on her mind.”

“Alex!”

…

  
  


It ends in a box of potstickers.

It ends in Kara catching Lena at the last minute just as she’s closing shop, the sign on the door just barely flipped when Kara knocks three times before stepping in, and Lena’s hauling the last of the plants usually displayed outside at one corner.

Lena’s understandably confused, her eyebrows rising up at the sight of Kara, her hair windswept and her glasses a little askew, with a box labeled _Red Dragon_ in her arms.

It’s almost eight in the evening, so Lena just has to ask, “Are you here to tell me that _Red Dragon_ is better than _Kwon’s_? Because I don’t think we’ll agree.”

“W-what?” Kara stutters, wholly baffled. Until Lena cocks a chin towards her arms. And at that she smiles, albeit a little shaky. “No! No. It’s uhm—these are for you.”

“Oh, thank you,” Lena says, her confusion morphing into complete surprise. It grows even more when Kara starts shifting on her feet, fiddling between her glasses and the hem of her denim jacket. So she asks, “Is everything okay, Kara?”

“Yes, uhm, just that—” Kara begins; takes a pause to suck in a deep breath before she continues. “T-those are potstickers. And they’re my favorite.”

“Oh. Did you want to share? I’ve already had dinner anyway.”

“No,” Kara says, shaking her head. “They’re all yours, please. I’m just—I’m trying to say that potstickers are my favorite.”

“Yes, we’ve established that.”

“And flowers, they’re—I love them, but they’re kind of not my language?”

Lena nods slowly, and the way she’s struggling to follow the conversation becomes evident as she drawls, “Okay?” 

“I don’t—I know flowers have meanings but I don’t know them. And I never bothered to search,” Kara presses on. Her eyes are wary, watchful of Lena’s every reaction, but there’s a determined spark behind them that pushes her to continue. “So—so if say, someone gives me flowers, I’d go on for months without knowing the meaning behind them.”

She hears more than sees the hitch in Lena’s breath, and the realization dawning on Lena’s face has her rushing more words out, because _God forbid_ , Lena gets the wrong idea.

“But food is my language. And I’m—I’m giving you my favorite food in the entire, whole world.”

“Kara,” Lena whispers. “Kara, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that—that—” She swallows thickly, pushing the nerves down. “I love to eat. And I’m guessing you like food sometimes too. So, you know, maybe we can sit down on the same table and—and eat. Together.”

“You’re really after these potstickers, huh?” Lena can’t help but quip, taps the box twice as she sends Kara a charmed smile.

“No! I told you they’re yours,” Kara replies. “But if you, well, if you wanna go eat together at the same table some time. I mean, your white camellias did say I’m adorable.”

“You are,” Lena says. “Don’t make me regret it.”

“So, what do you say?”

“I really did have dinner already, Kara,” Lena tells her. “But if you want to get coffee together, and sit down on the same table, I wouldn’t say no to that.”

Then, Lena smiles _again_ , and Kara feels the _nameless_ thing on her chest come into full bloom.

…

  
  
Later, when it’s been more months and more nights together, and Kara has Lena smiling up at her as Lena’s chest rises and falls in slow, sated breaths, she calls it _love_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/) or just talk sc head canons, or anything really
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	19. turn my chin music up and i’m puffin’ my chest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so glad you guys loved the previous fill! thanks again for the kudos and the comments, and just giving these fics a chance to be read, really <3

When Kara finds _it_ on Lena’s desk, she doesn’t think much of it at first.

It’s nondescript, plain white and a black lid, matched with a black sleeve and a white logo on the sleeve’s center that shimmers every time the light hits it. _The Coffee Club_.

It’s nothing remarkable, Kara thinks. Though it _is_ one of the very new places she’s been wanting to check out with Lena but haven’t had the chance to ask. So it makes Kara purse her lips into a pout as she rounds Lena’s desk, setting the _Noonan’s_ paper bag she’s brought with her right next to what Kara surmises is a slice of pumpkin pie. 

“You got breakfast already,” Kara says. Her bottom lip juts out, a doleful look settling in on her face, and Lena’s hand flexes almost _automatically_ , in an urge to shove the pie and the steaming drink away. 

But Lena’s able to curb the impulse at the very last second—would _like_ to think she has built some level of resistance when it comes to Kara’s pouts.

( _Some level_ , which just really means five percent of the time, and only when Lena has absolutely no choice but to be firm.)

“In a way, yes,” Lena replies. Yet she also clears her throat as if she’s preparing to tell Kara something— _something_ , and there’s a faint blush on her cheeks that Kara has no idea what to make of.

She should probably ask, too, what _in a way_ means, but all Kara can think of to say is _but—but I got you breakfast too_ in a rather petulant way she doesn’t really intend to come out as such.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Lena says. She looks up from her laptop again to throw Kara an apologetic look, and there’s _still_ that faint blush on her cheeks that makes her look so incredibly pretty Kara forgets to breathe for a short while. But then Lena’s saying, “If I’d known who to send these back to, I already would have.”

And Kara _loses_ air for an entirely different reason.

…

  
  


It’s a very _record-scratch_ moment, if Kara’s ever been in one, because _everything_ in Kara’s world grinds to a complete halt. She stops hearing Jess field another one of Lena’s calls, stops smelling the fragrant scent of pumpkin and spice and something else _sugary nice_ wafting from the paper cup on Lena’s desk; misses the stray cat hissing at one of the passers by two alleys down from L-Corp’s street. 

And while she hears the fire truck’s siren zoom past the ice cream van five steps away from the park’s main entrance, it’s muted in a way that Kara isn’t used to. Like she just jumped in on ice cold water and hasn’t come back up for air.

(Her skin feels just as _cold_ and there _is_ ice she feels slowly creeping up her chest.

And even the way she says her next words _feels_ shaky, like there’s a shiver in her spine that she’s trying to suppress.)

“D-did you not get it from that new coffee shop across the street?”

“Not exactly,” Lena replies. Kara watches her gnaw at her bottom lip, the blush that once was on her cheeks slowly being replaced by a tinge of hesitance that Kara doesn’t think she likes any better. “It was delivered to Jess’ desk this morning.”

Then, she pulls out a tiny note from her desk’s drawer, sliding it towards Kara like it’s the only form of explanation she can provide for her breakfast meal’s existence.

Kara picks it up with _surprisingly_ steady fingers despite the thudding that’s growing steadily in her chest. It’s nondescript, too, merely plain white, with a _not-even-so-neat_ scribble penned in blank ink.

_To the most fascinating woman I’ve had the pleasure of talking to. I hope this brightens your Monday._

_\- SA_

Kara’s gaze flits through three things then: the note still in her hand, the shy, timid smile that has been on Lena’s face even before Kara walked in, and the coffee she’s placed on Lena’s desk that Kara _knows_ is now tepid and completely undrinkable by Lena’s standards.

“I suppose the _SA_ stands for secret admirer. Though, I haven’t the faintest idea why they got me a latte of all things.”

“Right,” Kara manages to say; manages to put the note back down without crushing it to dust in her hands— 

“But I must say, it does taste nice. Dare I say I like it?”

—manages to hold in things like: _but I always get you breakfast!_

Things like: _you don’t even like sweet, sugary drinks that taste like veggies!_

Things like: _pumpkin spice sucks!_

“Kara?”

At the sound of her name, her world starts spinning right back into place. Her super powered senses no longer feel muted, and she can see, and hear, and smell everything clearly again.

But everything _also_ feels wrong, like they’re spinning backwards instead and she’s watching and hearing the world on rewind and nothing makes any sense.

So Kara takes a step back. And another. And another. Like she’s on rewind too. Until her feet are rounding her away from Lena’s desk, and Lena’s smile is quickly turning into one of confusion.

It shows through the crease that takes over her face and the bewilderment that lilts her tone. “Kara? Where are you going?”

“There’s—” Kara tries, she really does. But there’s a hefty weight against her shoulders when she goes for a shrug, and her feet have grown a mind of their own and they keep taking more backward steps than Kara thinks she’d like. Her mouth moves, her tongue pushing words out that it tries to tie up together, though all it ends up with are jumbled thoughts that slip through stiltedly. “Alex. Needs me. I think. I _hope_. Have—have a great day, Lena.”

Then she spins around, darting out of Lena’s doors like she was never there the last ten minutes.

…

  
  


She calls Sam. Of course she calls Sam. Why won’t she call Sam?

Sam picks up on the third ring, warning Kara that she’s headed to a meeting in three minutes so she really should keep it short, instead of any of the customary greetings.

Kara can’t really seem to find it in her to care though, not when her own greeting falls more into the lines of _why are you buying Lena lattes when she doesn’t like them_ , or better yet, _are you SA_.

Which, she does end up asking. “Are you _SA_?”

“ _Last I checked on my birth certificate,_ ” Sam says, her amusement dripping from the other line. “ _I am still Samantha Arias, so yes?_ ”

“Sam!” Kara can’t help the whine that slips out. But her phone beeps before she gets the chance to continue, and when she looks, she sees Lena’s name on the notification. She swipes it out of view for the meantime, resolved on just replying to her after. “Are you the _SA_ who got Lena breakfast this morning?”

“ _No, Kara,_ ” answers Sam. “ _I’m here in Metropolis, remember?_ ”

“So if it’s not you,” Kara says; pointedly ignores the second beep that _dings_ through. “Then who?”

“ _You’re right. Who. And what even is an SA in the first place?_ ”

“Lena thinks it means secret admirer,” Kara replies— _says_ the last two words with as much scathe as she can muster. Which, unfortunately, is _barely_. “Anyway, if you say it’s not you, I believe you. Thanks, Sam.”

“ _Oh my god, Kara!_ ” Sam shrieks. “ _You can’t just drop something like that on me when I’m about to head into a video conference with the subject herself!_ ”

…

  
  


She flies to the DEO with more questions than answers, and a long worded reply she sends to Lena not long after she lands as Lena has sent her a message to ask if everything is indeed alright.

 _Everything’s fine! There was just a fire_ , Kara types, which is half the truth anyway. There really was a fire, but things aren’t exactly going _fine_ much to Kara’s displeasure. _Make it up to you at lunch?_

 _I’d love nothing more_ , is the reply she gets. And normally, it makes Kara grin, so wide she gets curious looks from the agents she comes across with, and a flick on the head from Alex when she doesn’t stop. But _normally_ , there is no _SA_ too, so if Kara’s ensuing grin is a little less wider and a little less brighter, well, Kara’s definitely blaming _that_.

(And if she greets her sister a little more gruff, too, then she’s still blaming _that_.)

“What have we got?”

“Well hello to you, too,” Alex greets back, eyeing her amusedly. “Why do you look like someone ate your last donut?”

Kara huffs, crosses her arms over her chest as she hooks a foot on one of the swivelling chairs by Alex’s spot, plopping down on it with probably more force than it can actually take. 

Kara’s half sure she’s just broken something when it creaks violently. (She’s blaming it on _that_ , too.)

“Someone got Lena pumpkin pie and a spice latte this morning. For breakfast.”

Alex inches closer, propping a hip against the edge of the long desk. “Isn’t that a good thing? _Most important meal of the day, yay_ kind of thing?”

“Yeah, but,” Kara stomps a foot, and Alex finds it an absolute miracle that her boot doesn’t go into the floor below. “I always get her breakfast.”

“Ah,” Alex says, nods slowly as if things suddenly make sense. “So then get her lunch. Beat whoever it is to it. Or they. Who’s to say there’s not more than one person?”

“I _am_ getting her lunch,” Kara _bites_ , sounding the slightest bit offended that Alex even thought she wouldn’t. And perhaps a little riled at the notion that there is indeed a long line waiting for a chance with her best friend because of how true Kara knows it would probably be. “I just _need_ to know who gave it.”

Kara huffs again, and maybe, _maybe_ , if she isn’t so intent on figuring out who it is, she wouldn’t miss the knowing smirk on Alex’s face when she asks, “But why would you need to know? Is it that really important?”

“It is! What if they’re planning to hurt her, Alex?!”

“With what?” Alex snorts. “Diabetes?”

Kara twists around, throws a glare at her sister before rolling her chair away from the desk and springing on her feet. “I’m going now because you’re not helping.”

“I didn’t even know I was supposed to be helping!”

…

  
  


Her phone buzzes again on her way to the training room to blow off some steam, and she feels mollified a bit when she sees Lena’s name. Though _it_ flares up again when Lena’s message reads: _Thanks for lunch. You really didn’t have to._ , and it’s all thanks to the kryptonite powering up that she doesn’t squash the device to smithereens.

Kara opts not to reply, not until she’s punched all of her irritation out, and the new special training bags J’onn has recently gotten made are sporting dents that Kara doesn’t think she can punch back to shape.

But the silence on her part prompts Lena to send one more message, a photo she’s taken of her _lunch_ that she still thinks came from Kara, along with the caption: _How did you know I was craving sushi? Come fly back here and have lunch with me._

Kara huffs and huffs and puffs, and jabs left and right, left and right. Stronger. Harder. Until the last punch sends the training bag flying off its handle, making an even bigger dent against the concrete wall that Kara’s sure J’onn will yell at her for.

Yet, that’s the last thing she even wants to think about, her entire mind suddenly swimming in thoughts she’s never even considered before. Alex had asked _why_ knowing who Lena’s secret admirer is is too important for her, and a part of Kara feels like the answer isn’t something she’s ready to admit yet.

But it also feels like she’s suddenly running out of time, that moving any more slower will have someone whisk her best friend away if Kara so much as blinks.

So Kara stalks off the DEO with determination in her steps, shooting off the balcony as fast as she can, because if anyone’s bringing Lena breakfast and lunch for the rest of Lena’s life, it’s gonna be _her_.

…

  
  


She lands on Lena’s balcony ten minutes after, the solid thump of her boots practically scaring the lights out of Lena. Her best friend is too busy scowling at her phone, likely wondering why Kara hasn’t replied yet, and Kara would feel incredibly guilty at that if she isn’t still so annoyed by some random stranger trying to worm their way into Lena’s life.

“Kara!” Lena calls out a little chidingly. Though it ebbs away the moment she sees the scowl on Kara’s face. Lena’s noticed it being there since this morning, and a part of her is afraid it might become a permanent fixture on her best friend’s face. “What is going on? You’ve been surly all morning.”

“I didn’t get you sushi,” Kara states just to get it out of the way; feels incredibly tempted to shove away said sushi that’s now on Lena’s desk. But she’s not a neanderthal by nature and has been raised with far better manners than most men she knows, so she simply just stacks them on the farthest corner of Lena’s table—short of dumping them in the trash—and lays down every single one of Lena’s favorite things.

“What do you mean you didn’t—” Lena tries to say, wholly confused now. But it peters off as she watches the box of sushi be taken away rather helplessly, then watches Kara glare at it like she wants to set it on fire. Which, Kara is actually more than capable of.

“But I got you something better,” Kara then says, walking towards Lena’s coffee table. “And later we’re definitely going to talk. But right now we’re going to eat because I’m super hungry and I’m only now realizing I totally skipped breakfast. My stomach is revolting I think.”

She fishes out a different box from the giant paper bag in her arms, one that looks incredibly familiar and Lena’s completely sure it’s from the same restaurant she found in Kyoto once during an impromptu trip she’s told Kara about. Then there are the scones Kara’s brought her from Dublin a couple of times, the eclairs from Paris that Kara tells her are for snacks later, and two cups of coffee straight from Milan.

It all lays out in a spread that quite resembles a _candle light dinner for two_ , Lena likes to think, and one that Kara tops off with a note clipped on a colorful holder she slides at the center, in place of actual candles that won’t really work in broad daylight.

 _Words cannot espresso how much you mean to me_ , it reads. But Lena’s brain is suspended somewhere in between this morning and now, and she finds that she’s lacking the strength to try and work out each and every implication of _that_.

So she just takes the hand Kara offers—and when did her best friend even get out of her suit—lets Kara lead her towards her couch, and perhaps, Lena hopes, to something _more_.

…

_Did you find who SA is?_

Kara laughs softly, and presses a light kiss on the crown of Lena’s head to soothe her back from stirring. She then quickly snaps a photo of them both, of Lena lying comfortable and safe on her chest as they try to finish the movie—or just Kara now since Lena has long fallen asleep—and sends it as a reply.

Then, she adds, _not that important anymore, I think_.

 _Did you really have to send me this disgustingly cute moment?!_ Sam fires back. _I already told you I’m not them!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got asked if we're going to see a jealous kara, and i said we might but i'm not really sure in which prompt to put it. but an idea popped in my head, and a friend of mine totally went for it (you know who you are), so figured, why not this prompt haha
> 
> i'd love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/) or just talk sc head canons, or anything really
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	20. rumor has it (part one)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the kudos and comments, you lovely peeps! <3 also, this is entire thing is in two parts, each of which should fill the prompt of the day (hopefully lmao)

Nia Nal has always been curious. 

When she was four, she’d asked her mom if the unicorn she’d seen at the carnival was real, only to have her heartbroken at such an early age when her mom told her—in the most sympathetic voice Nia remembers ever hearing—that _no, sweetie, it’s a painted ice cream cone on the donkey’s head_.

Asked her dad when she was six, after he had gotten out of surgery and Nia visited him for the first time; pointed at the patch covering his eye and wondered if he was secretly a pirate. (He sadly _wasn’t_.)

And at thirteen, she had a sudden burst of bravery to ask her least favorite teacher that if swear words were forbidden, then why were they invented?

Nia was born curious, with an innate need to solve clues and search for answers. And it’s all thanks to _that_ that she’s where she is now, three years off the academy and the top of her class, transferring from Metropolis to work with some of the best detectives National City has ever seen.

Two of them are inside the briefing room Nia is stepping into at the very moment, inquisitive eyes looking up at her as she makes her way to the captain’s podium. She stands tall behind the wooden structure, dropping the file in her hand on the slanted surface as she prepares to speak. “So, as we all know, Kara’s anniversary is coming up.”

Twin murmurs of agreement echo, prompting Nia to continue. “And as I was trying to come up with the perfect anniversary gift to give her—because, and let’s be honest, _I am_ the best gift giver in this entire precinct—it has come to my attention that we have _not_ , in fact, met Kara’s significant other. Nor do we know who they are. Is it a Mister Danvers, or a Missus Danvers?”

One of Nia’s attendees lifts a hand, asks, “Have you tried just asking Kara?” Just as Nia hears the other ponder out loud, “Wouldn’t that be her mom?”

“I did,” Nia replies, pointedly ignoring the other. “In a way. But I can’t just ask her straight up, Winn. That’d just make us look like terrible co-workers.”

“I still don’t understand what the _emergency_ is in your _emergency meeting_ email, though,” the other of the two pipes in, coaxing a glare from Nia that she quickly tries to placate. “I mean other than you know, the gift yada-yada. Which, clearly, you’ve already got covered being the _best gift giver in the entire precinct_.”

“I can’t exactly be _that_ if I don’t know who I’ll be giving the gift to, can I, Detective Vasquez?”

Winn nods, looking impressed, though Vasquez just rolls her eyes. “So what do you think we should do? And why are we the only ones here?”

“We’re the only ones free today,” Nia waves off dismissively. “And as for what we’re doing—”

She steps out of the podium to pull the whiteboard standing by the corner and facing the wall; rolls it at the center, and gives it a _giddy_ flip to uncover what she’s been working on all her case-free morning.

Nia makes a dramatic unveiling sound, humming _dun dun dun_ as the board spins and reveals a rather comprehensive timeline of events in Kara’s life. 

At the center of the board are major key dates arranged in a chronological line, dates that Nia’s able to gather from fellow co-workers and any form of social media that Kara actually bothers to update (she’s so bad at it). 

While on the left side are a collection of pictures of every possible person Kara has been _entangled_ with. And listed on the left are Nia, Winn and Vasquez’s names, in tabular form that Nia then explains is for their deemed _prospects_.

(Not that Nia’s keeping score or anything, but, if— _when_ they do solve it, Nia would like to have it on record who got it right.

When _she_ gets it right.

Besides, there is absolutely no harm in some good old healthy, friendly competition.)

“So, what do you guys think?”

Winn just slumps back in his seat, throwing Nia a wary look as he says, “I don’t know if I should be impressed or creeped out.” 

While Detectie Vasquez merely shrugs, then, “I’m going with both. _Hella_.”

…

  
  


“First things first,” Nia continues. Though it’s only after she waves nervously at Captain J’onzz when he passes by the briefing room on his way for another cup of coffee, and their captain simply shakes his head and leaves them be. “We need to establish the correct timeline. Kara got married last year. My transfer hasn’t been approved yet around that time, so I’m going to need you guys to fill this out for me.”

“I think it was around February,” Vasquez replies, turning to Winn for some sort of confirmation. “I remember her complaining about standing in the cold in her wedding dress for like, an hour, when she got back.”

Nia nods and shuffles towards the whiteboard to write the date down under the box she’s labeled _Wedding Date_. 

She’s on the last digit of the year when Winn throws his two cents in. 

“No, no, that was when she took a vacation to Ireland,” Winn refutes, his mind circling back to _that_ particular memory. “I remember because she brought me back a leprechaun hat as a gag gift. So I think the wedding was around June.”

“Dude, _no_ ,” Vasquez lobs back. “I worked the Johnson case with her the entire June.”

“The Johnson case was May,” Winn singsongs teasingly. “I should know because I was the one who got the CCTV footage that won the case in court.”

Vasquez opens her mouth to fully rebuke Winn, but shuts it close when her memories do _line_ up and the different points fall on the same date. “ _Damn_ , I hate it when you’re right.”

“So when is it really?” Nia jumps in, wiping off _June 2019_ from the whiteboard. “And weren’t you guys invited?”

“It was a pretty private occasion,” Winn explains. “Held somewhere fancy in Europe. Besides, we wouldn’t be able to take the entire week off even if Kara did invite us. Not all of us, at least.”

Vasquez grunts her agreement, yet she settles on her initial assumption in the end. “I’m still saying February.”

“I keep telling you it’s not—”

“Screw you, Schott! My memory’s sharp as a _fucking—_ ”

“Oh, yeah?! Wanna bet?!”

“Oh, I bet you I wanna _fucking_ bet! It’s on!”

“Okay, you guys!” Nia raises both her hands up, palms out in an attempt to settle the two detectives down. But it’s the glare she pins them both with that ultimately works, Vasquez rolling her eyes as Winn mumbles a _yes Ma’am_ before pressing his lips shut.

“I think we’re going to need some help.”

...

  
  


“How is this help, exactly?” Winn asks ten minutes later. _Later_ , when Nia’s waltzing back up with her boyfriend of three months in tow, and Brainy’s confused trailing gaze now fixed on the whiteboard. “We could’ve called James instead. He’s pretty close to Kara.”

“Because he’s a genius,” Nia replies, incredibly proud and _haughty_. “Plus he’s an outstanding profiler and he’s very good at remembering dates. And _no_ , James is one of our prospects. If it turns out to actually be him, then this is all for nothing.”

“For the record,” Winn then replies. “I wanna be offended that you said Brainy is an outstanding profiler when we’ve been here the whole time. Chopped liver much?”

“It’s the truth,” Vasquez jests, clapping Winn on his shoulder in feigned sympathy. “And that _shit_ hurts.”

…

  
  


“So, to be brief, and for the sake of our new recruit,” Nia then continues, looping them back to the task at hand. But she does throw a shy smile towards Brainy’s direction before pressing on. “Kara’s anniversary is coming up. But none of us know if it’s her wedding anniversary or something else. And now we’re trying to establish a timeline. Babe, what do you think?”

Brainy blinks once, twice. He squirms in his seat, and then forces out a smile as he says, “Have you considered asking the subject herself?”

Nia can only groan at that.

…

  
  


Unfortunately, they get sent off to an impromptu break when Winn spots Kara making her way back to her desk, a bunch of files in her hands and frowning at the distinct lack of chatter that usually welcomes her in their space.

It sends them packing for the rest of the morning to avoid any kind of suspicion, though Nia’s pretty hopeful they’d be able to get back to it right after lunch.

Kara’s currently grinning on her phone so she doesn’t notice Nia sliding into her empty seat, an opportunity that presents itself that Nia absolutely _can’t_ miss. So she rolls her chair towards Kara’s table, greets, “Hey, Kara.”

Kara jerks back from being hunched over her desk, righting herself up quickly as she hits the power button of her phone to darken the screen. There’s a blush on her cheeks that Nia doesn’t even want to think about what it’s for _exactly_ —would rather roll herself back to her desk and forget about the entire thing. 

But cases also don’t solve themselves—and so does _this_ —so Nia perseveres.

“Hi,” Kara squeaks, setting her phone face down for good measure. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing much,” Nia says; waves a hand lazily to disguise her purpose. “I just heard through the grapevine that your anniversary’s coming up. So I wanna greet you and your better half in advance.”

Kara coos—legitimately _coos_ over the reminder. And if Nia isn’t so intent on solving the mystery, she’d find it _utterly_ adorable. But right now, it isn’t exactly helping.

“Thank you! You’re too sweet.”

“Speaking, of, what do you call them again?”

Kara chews at her bottom lip, stifling a giddy laugh that rumbles deep within her chest. Though the way she sighs before she replies is a little dreamy, like she’s too far gone into the feeling that Nia feels like she isn’t going to get any straight answer. “The love of my life.”

“That’s… sweet. But I was thinking more of their name, you know?”

“Oh! it’s—”

“Detective Danvers!”

Kara whips around at the sound of _her_ name, twisting on her chair to look over her shoulder. She finds Captain J’onzz at the end of her gaze, standing by his office’s doorway and beckoning Kara to spare him the very next second.

“My office, please.”

“Yes sir,” Kara obeys and shoots out of her seat, leaving Nia wanting to plant her face on Kara’s desk because _it was so right there_.

…

  
  


They do resume right after lunch, much to Nia’s relief, but are left staring at a rather inconclusive board, much to Nia’s displeasure. Though she tells everyone—and effectively herself—not to fret, what with Kara’s anniversary still being two and a half weeks away.

The only addition to it is Brainy’s name now also jotted down in the table along with theirs. But other than that, they’re still drawing blanks.

It’s like they need more motivation, an _impetus_ that can really push them to put their backs into it, as Nia’s grandfather always says. An incentive in very high stakes that none of them can afford to lose.

She purses her free hand inside the pocket of her dress pants, playing with a few quarters she’s saved for the jelly beans by the breakroom that she plans to get later. They _jingle_ and they _clink_ in Nia’s hand, serving as some kind of background music as Nia’s eyes peruse the whiteboard, waiting for _that_ one idea to hit her.

And it’s like a _crowning_ moment when it _finally_ does, and Nia’s pirouetting around with a huge smile on her face that makes Winn throw a beady-eyed look towards her direction.

“Since we’re finding it hard to establish the timeline—for now, at least,” Nia begins to say. “Let’s talk _suspects_.”

Brainy frowns. “Did you mean _prospects_?”

“Eh,” she dismisses, but blows him a kiss to cushion it. “Semantics.”

She grabs one of the markers placed snugly on the pen rest by the bottom, uncapping it and propping a hand on the board’s side. Then, she wiggles her eyebrows at the three of them, says, “Are you guys ready to play a game?”

…

  
  


“Ten bucks says, _Mister Danvers_ is Mon-El from Vice.”

“He does seem to have dated Kara the longest,” Brainy supplies helpfully. Nia takes that as a very, very good sign, so she proceeds to write _Mon-El_ on the column under her name.

She shuffles to face her _audience_ again, raising a challenging brow, then, “Any takers?”

Winn scoffs, though Nia’s not really sure at which. But she has an inkling that it’s more because he and Mon-El never really got along than her picking his best bet first.

“I’ll double that,” he says; makes a show of pulling his wallet out and throwing a crisp twenty dollar bill on top of his table. “Because if _Mister Danvers_ is anyone, it would be James.”

“He did meet Kara first. And dated him twice,” Brainy provides, like a running commentary that Nia sure doesn’t appreciate _now_. It earns him a glare and a hissed _babe, not helping_ that presses his mouth shut.

“And you, Detective Vasquez?”

“I can’t pick one yet,” Vasquez replies. She crosses her arms, eyeing the board with keen interest. “There’s too many unknowns. Like, _this_ one.”

She points at a frame with their usual silhouette image as its stand in, penned _College Fling - 2009_. And as much as Nia hates it, it’s the only bit of information they managed to uncover about said _College Fling - 2009_.

Though, for all the barely-there attention Vasquez has shown earlier, she seems to be highly involved now. So she says, “Wow, you’re really taking this seriously.”

“Listen, I never gamble with my money, just with my life. So I need to get this right.”

“Okay, so we’re gonna gloss over all of that,” Nia replies, moving her hand in a circle to gesture at _everything_ that’s been said the last four seconds. “But you’re right. As much as it _pains_ me to admit it, there’s an obvious lack of details.”

Because Kara has always been private about her dating life, for fear of unknowingly putting her significant other’s life in harm’s way. And for as much research as Nia has poured in it, in the end, there are still a number of details they need to cover.

So Nia takes a few steps back away from the board. It has a little more shape now compared to how it started, a much better picture that they can go on from there.

Nia can’t help but admire it. But she’s also admittedly starting to run out of ways to fill the missing parts.

Like _College Fling - 2009_.

Nia crosses her arms, nodding at the photo in question. “I guess it would be pretty hard for us to know who this one is. Unless we went to college with Kara or something.”

But then, Brainy says, “We could always ask Doctor Luthor.”

“Why? Isn’t she even more new than me? She’s been here for like, two months.”

“They met that same year, if I remember correctly,” Brainy replies. “And I _do_ remember correctly. My memory is impeccable.”

And suddenly there’s hope blooming on Nia’s chest, like they’re one step closer to finally figuring it out.

Nia kisses her then, reduces the ever composed Querl Dox into a blushing mess before hightailing it out of the briefing room and down to two flights of stairs.

...

  
  


The Forensics Lab isn’t exactly Nia’s favorite place on Earth. It smells too weird for Nia’s taste and a little too sterile. Perhaps even more than an actual hospital, and Nia’s been there more times than she’d like to count. 

It’s two floors down from their office, and yet, Nia feels like she can still smell the bleach wafting through the stairs.

But it does have one of Nia’s favorite people. And coincidentally, _Kara’s_.

Nia would blame the smile. Really she would. The dimples that paint beautiful happiness on an already unfairly gorgeous face, along with green eyes and their specks of blue that reminds Nia of the ocean on summer nights.

And a voice that Nia admittedly could listen to for days, even with just merely greeting her. “Detective Nal. What brings you to my area?” 

“Doctor Luthor,” Nia greets back, her heart skipping a few beats because it’s _Lena_ and every single one of them is just a little bit in love with her. “I’m—I think we’re in need of a consult.”

“Oh,” Lena says. She snaps her gloves off, baring her fingers, and balls the black rubber to throw into the nearby bin. “This sounds serious. Is something the matter?”

“I wouldn’t say serious,” Nia prefaces. “But you know that Kara’s anniversary is coming, right?”

Lena falls quiet for a good beat, seemingly studying the urgency evident on Nia’s face, like she’s trying to gauge if Nia’s actually serious or just pulling her leg. But she does nod, albeit slowly, though it still gives Nia some sort of relief, sighing it out when Lena answers. “It is, yes.”

“See the thing is, the guys and I have plans to give her an anniversary gift. But we can’t exactly get her one because we haven’t met her other half, like, ever.”

Lena hums, tilting her head as if she’s taking all the information in. “I see,” she then says, lifts a hand and holds it with the other, her fingers playing with an invisible ring on her left fourth finger out of habit. “I suppose you’re here to ask for my help?”

“Yes, please,” Nia confirms, with an eager gleam in her eyes that makes them twinkle. “We have this whole timeline thing, and some other usual detective stuff. And there may or may not be some kind of bet involved. But we’re lacking sources, so you’d do us all a huge favor if you come upstairs and help us.”

“A bet, huh? I don’t see why not,” Lena replies with a shrug. “Barring any urgent examinations I need to carry out myself, I’m yours for the rest of the day.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you!” Nia yells, nearly falling over Lena’s desk and knocking the name plaque that bears her name in excitement. “And oh! This is a secret by the way. I know you and Kara are really good friends, but please don’t tell her!”

“Of course,” Lena says, flashing Nia this really pretty smile that she admittedly falls a little weak for (see: a little bit in love). “Your secret is safe with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was really fun to write!!! a mess, but a fun mess! HAHA
> 
> i'd really love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	21. rumor has it (part two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so glad you guys enjoyed part 1! thank you for the kudos and the comments <3

“So, what do you think?”

Lena leans back a tad bit, studying the whiteboard with ardent interest. There’s a sparkle in her eyes that brings a _thrill_ down Nia’s spine, the smirk tugging at the corner of Lena’s lips she takes as having done something right. And it’s enough for her to run away with said notion.

“I think,” Lena begins to say, humming in between the pauses she makes as her gaze pores over the entire board; nods in both comprehension and clear approval. “That for a lack of source, as you put it, this is surprisingly extensive.”

“I know right,” Nia answers, preening under Lena’s praise. But her simpering grin falls when Lena’s eyes sweep to the left section of their board, and Lena’s brow is slowly rising and rising and rising as she reads on.

And when Lena says _Detective Nal, would you mind telling me who Sergeant Lucy Lane is_ , Nia feels a different kind of _chill_ down her spine.

“Oh, uh—she’s—” Nia finds herself stammering through, fumbling for the next words at the pointed way Lena reads Lucy’s name. But Nia doesn’t really know anything aside from the name, so she looks behind her, mouthing _help_ at Winn.

“Uh, she’s—she _was_ a detective here,” Winn supplies. “But they met at the academy.”

“Was?”

“She transferred to Metropolis years ago. Actually, just a few months after she and Kara got partnered. A special request,” he says. “Or that’s what the rumors say.”

“That would make them go far back, in a sense,” Brainy chimes in. “Perhaps you should go with that, Detective Vasquez.”

Vasquez lifts two fingers to her chin in response, the pads of them rubbing slowly as she ponders. “I’m _considering_.”

“And Leslie Willis?”

“Investigative journalist.” It’s Vasquez who answers. “She interviewed Kara and I for a book she was writing that time. And boy, let me tell ya, that night was just—”

She lets herself trail off, and instead wiggles her fingers in gesture. Lena assumes it denotes a spark, or a sizzle, or something to that effect. Nia _hopes_ it’s _what_ Lena assumes it means.

Though she really ought to thank Brainy for his very timely bluntness when he says, “Full of sparks?”

Vasquez snaps her fingers and points at him in confirmation. “Just flying off left and right.”

“I see,” Lena hums again, fixing her gaze back to the board. And Nia’s beginning to wonder what those deep _melodies_ actually mean because it feels foreboding in a way, but not for Nia herself; feels like she’s getting Kara in some sort of trouble with a good friend. “Anyway, I digress. You’ve brought me here to help, so, what can I help you with?”

“Oh!” Nia scrambles to her feet, snapping back into attention. “Brainy mentioned that you and Kara met back in two thousand and nine?”

“We did, yes,” Lena says. Then, she turns around, walking to one of the nearby tables by the front row to prop herself against it.

“That’s awesome! Because we were hoping you could tell us about the college fling.”

“The college fling,” Lena repeats, and there’s another hum that Nia’s seriously starting to be wary about. It becomes even more unnerving when Lena folds her arms over her chest, in this slow, graceful way that has her fingers drumming against an upper arm. “Tell me what you know about them first. I might need to refresh my memory.”

“See that’s the thing,” Nia answers. “I would, if I could.”

“Where did _they_ even come from?” It’s Winn who asks this time. “How did you even go _this_ far back?”

“There may or may not be a couple of posts on Facebook.”

“You went through Kara’s posts in two thousand and nine?!”

“What?” Nia lobs back in her defense. “It’s not like there’s a lot anyway! She barely updates that thing. Besides, I didn’t get anything useful. There were even hardly any pictures.”

“Now that,” Lena says. “That’s the kind of dedication I must say I admire.”

…

  
  


“I do remember this one person,” Lena then brings up a little while later. When the frustration is beginning to show on Nia’s face and the scowl that’s creasing her forehead is starting to become a permanent fixture, and Vasquez is still refusing to name her bet due to the lack of details she says she should be drawing her own intelligent guesses from.

Nia twists away from the board, pinning Lena a look that’s dripping with anticipation. “Yeah? Hit us, sister!”

“They met during a Literature summer class, if I remember it right,” Lena continues. “Really hit it off well, too.”

“And then what happened?”

“They lost communication for a while,” Lena says, a somber look settling in on her face that Nia supposes is sympathy for the story Lena’s trying to tell. And if Nia does think about it, she’d be sad too.

“Huh, I guess naming them _College Fling_ is very fitting,” Nia murmurs.

“Perhaps,” Lena concurs. “Though they do have a name, if you find _college fling dash two thousand and nine_ a little too long.”

“Really? What is it?”

“Kieran.”

“Awesome,” Nia breathes out; scribbles _Kieran_ right beneath the label she’s first named the frame with. “Thanks, Lena!”

Lena grins. But Nia is too distracted by the flow of new information that the mischief lacing it completely goes over her head. “Happy to help.”

…

  
  


“By the way, I meant to ask, is there any more room for this bet? I think I’d like to join.”

“Really?”

An easy shrug rolls off Lena’s shoulders. “Call it _in the name of team spirit_.”

“Alright!” Nia shrieks, bouncing on her feet. She stretches a hand towards Lena for a high five, which the other woman has no problems meeting her halfway. Then, she poises a hand over the now dubbed _betting table_ , draws one more column and scrawls Lena’s name on top. “I’ll put you down for which?”

“The college fling.”

Nia stares at her once, flits her gaze at the board only to dart it right back. She blinks at Lena confusedly before asking to clear up, just in case she’s heard wrong. “The college fling?”

“Yes.”

“Really?” She asks again, because third time’s a charm and maybe, _this time_ , she’ll hear Lena right. “Are you sure?”

But Lena’s as resolute as the first time she’s said it. “Absolutely.”

“But—” Nia tries to say, looking like she’s at a sudden loss. “That’s nearly a decade ago!”

“Come on, Nal, let her be,” Vasquez jumps in, a tad chiding.

“She’s right,” Winn agrees. “You really can’t question her choice when you picked Mon-El of all people.”

“Exactly,” Vasquez supports. “Besides it’s her money she’s gonna be losing so—”

Lena just rolls her eyes, turns to Vasquez and smiles, to sweet and too saccharine to be genuine. “I appreciate the support, Detective.”

…

  
  


Vasquez finally goes with _Sergeant Lane_ , but Brainy opts out of the bet, because he didn’t like the idea of not being on the same side as Nia, and Nia’s far too endeared with his reason that she doesn’t oppose. They put him on money duty, though, trusting him well enough to keep guard of the prize.

“Now what?”

“Ten bucks says the wedding was February,” Vasquez replies, throwing Winn a challenging smirk. “Since we’re already at it.”

Winn lets out a long suffering groan, but pulls another twenty dollars from his wallet anyway. “Twenty says it’s June.”

“I’m going with December,” Nia joins. “Because Kara totally seems to be the hopeless romantic type who gets married around Christmas.”

“A very good point,” Lena says, pursing her lips in agreement. “But I’m going to go with August.”

“Really? That doesn’t seem to be very romantic.”

“I suppose. But let’s call it a hunch.”

…

  
  


“Okay, now what, like, for real?”

“Now we do some good old-fashioned sleuthing,” Nia replies, capping the marker back and setting it down as if it’s some sort of ceremony that declares things _official_. “The game’s afoot!”

“I still don’t get why we can’t just ask Kara.”

“I do not, either,” Brainy whispers to answer Winn. “But I have learned that it’s best to let Nia do things she has set her mind to.”

…

  
  


_Sleuthing_ —as Nia prefers to put it—is both easy _and_ hard.

It’s easy because Kara’s incredibly easy to talk to. It’ll take Nia one _hey, Kara_ for Kara to spill whichever beans she’s carrying on her chest at that moment, and Nia will end up with a hefty bag of information.

But it’s hard because Kara’s _incredibly_ easy to talk to, and that equates to their conversations tending to deviate from Nia’s main purpose, and it’s a little hard to steer it right back without raising any kind of suspicion that Kara can pick up on.

(Though, Nancy Drew never did have it easy, or else those books won’t be what Nia loves them for.)

So _sleuthing_ requires a little finesse and a lot of techniques, most of which she’s thankfully picked up the last three years and counting.

“I’ve been wanting to get contacts,” she tells Kara during one of their quick coffee breaks, making conversation while Kara refills the machine with ground black coffee. “But I’m a little worried they’ll change the color of my eyes.”

Kara chances a glance at Nia as she makes to grab the coffee filter. “Just get the colorless ones. You’ll be fine.”

“Have you used those?”

“Sometimes,” Kara replies, a little distracted with pushing the filter in. “But my better half likes me better in glasses. Says it brings out my eyes.”

Nia smirks. She pulls a paper cup from its holder and taps on it lightly, feigning honest curiosity and _not_ fishing for information or anything equally uncouth. “Ah yes, your blessed blues on an already unfairly blue eyes. Speaking of.”

Kara tips her head back up at that, staring at Nia expectantly. “Speaking of what?”

“Your uh—your better half. What color are their eyes?”

“Oh,” Kara breathes out— _sighs_ that dreamy sigh again and Nia almost wants to scream. Because she knows, _she knows_ where it’s going and what she’s ultimately going to get. “My favorite color.”

An unintelligible squeak escapes Nia’s throat, but she quickly buries it under an endeared grin she forces out. “That’s—you guys are adorable.”

“Why thank you,” Kara replies, a preening smile spread on her face as she hams up a curtsy. In dress pants. “We are.”

Like Nia’s said, a little finesse and _a lot_ of techniques.

…

  
  


“Hey, Kara!” Winn tries to strike up—or more like Nia shoves him towards where Kara is parked by the water cooler as part of her grand idea of _switching it up_ to throw Kara off their scent. “So I’ve got someone coming over for a movie night. And I was thinking—”

He takes a pause, scratching nervously at the back of his head. “What movie do you think we should watch? Like, what’s you and your _husband’s_ favorite? Or _wife’s_?”

(Besides the obvious bait, Winn knows for a fact that James loves the Lethal Weapon series, and it’s the only piece of evidence Winn knows he needs to win.)

“Stardust!” Kara replies. Her grin is fuelled by enthusiasm, completely eclipsing the confused frown that was starting to form not even two seconds ago. “You can never go wrong with Stardust.”

Yet it’s Winn who ends up frowning, because he definitely did _not_ hear Lethal Weapon come out of Kara’s mouth. So he asks again, because _surely_ he’s misheard. “Really? Stardust?”

“Yeah,” Kara nods. Though, at the baffled look on Winn’s face, she returns it with one of her own. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” Winn quickly assuages, especially when Kara cocks her head and her neck pulls to the right like she’s ready to fight Winn if one more word comes out of his mouth. “Nothing! I guess I was just expecting something like, I don’t know, Lethal Weapon?”

“Oh, yeah!” Kara’s eyes twinkle in recognition, and so does Winn’s. “But I’ve never seen it.”

“You—you haven’t seen it?”

“Nope,” Kara says, puffing her cheeks. “Our movie nights are just one of two things, romcoms or non-crime related documentaries.”

“That’s—huh.”

“We kind of make it a point not to watch stuff related to work, you know?” Kara continues to explain. “Except for forensic marvels and upcoming tech, because we’re both suckers for those.”

Winn nods dumbly, his mind seemingly suspended to _romcoms_ and _documentaries_ ; two words that spell none of his _ace_. 

"Well, I gotta go,” Kara then excuses herself when he doesn’t reply. “I’ve got a robber to catch. Enjoy your movie night!”

Winn waves her goodbye, a little dumbstruck; lets Kara go mumbling, “Yeah, I will?”

…

  
  


Nia yells at him later on, over another after lunch _meeting_ that’s starting to become a daily occurrence, and one Nia spreads word of through a group chat she’s specifically created for the five of them.

“I don’t see how a _favorite movie_ is conducive to our case, Detective Schott.”

“I panicked!” Winn cries out in his defense. “You just shoved me in there and told me to snoop around!”

“Favorite movies change all the time!” Nia retorts. “Like mine was _13 going on 30_ yesterday, but today it might be _Murder, She Wrote_!”

“That’s not even a movie,” Vasquez corrects.

“That’s not the point!” Nia all but shrieks. But she heaves a deep breath the next second, sucking in a lungful of air and breathing out the frustration that’s slowly starting to build up. “Okay, okay. It’s fine, _it’s fine_.”

“It _is_ fine,” Lena allays. “Maybe we can still learn something from whatever Kara’s said her favorite movie is. What did she tell you, Winn?”

“Stardust,” Winn replies. “I honestly thought it’d be something like Lethal Weapon, but she’s never even seen it.”

“I haven’t either,” Nia admits. “Should I—wait, no, _focus_. What else did she say?”

“Nothing any more substantial I think. Just that they only watch either romcoms or documentaries.”

Lena nods, taking the answer in before taking a sip from the green smoothie she’s brought with her. A smoothie that shares the same tall paper cup with the one she’s seen Kara carrying the entire morning, and _god_ , Nia suddenly misses her best friend back home because Lena’s friendship with Kara sure is _goals_.

“You know, Kieran hated action films,” Lena then speaks, matching the arch of her brow with a light shrug that screams of feigned innocence. “Thinks they’re rather insipid. Maybe it’s a taste Kara has acquired.”

“You’re not helping my case, pretty lady,” Nia chides, albeit playful. Though Lena can’t help but think she’s half serious too. “You said the first day you’re going to help.”

Lena just tilts her head. “When did we make that arrangement?”

…

  
  


The week passes by with barely any progress on Nia’s end. But _no matter_ , Nia thinks, since they still have a week left, and a ton of opportunities Nia can create any given time.

Just like now.

“Hold please!”

Kara’s hand that’s hovering on the _close_ button switches to the _open_ one _,_ fingers pushing on it as she watches Nia and Brainy sprint inside the car. 

Nia’s embarrassingly a little breathless from the brisk run, but she’s also had a giant breakfast burrito and she refuses to be shamed for her appetite. Thankfully, Kara says nothing of sort and just simply grins at them in greeting; asks which floor they’re going.

“Just the lobby,” Nia replies. She gestures at her and Brainy, then, “We’re going for a quick coffee run. Wanna come with?”

“Oh, I’m meeting Lena downstairs for breakfast,” Kara tells them regretfully, tapping on the stack of plastic bags labeled _evidence_ in bold and all caps. “After I get these to Evidence. Rain check, though?”

Nia just smiles at her. “Sure, just tell me when.”

The rest of their ride is spent in comfortable silence, save for the elevator’s hum. But when Kara gets off on the Evidence Department’s floor, Nia’s pulling at Brainy’s hand even before the doors can close behind her.

“Kara and Lena really seem close, don’t you think?” Nia asks him. “I wonder if Kara’s _SO_ isn’t the jealous type.”

“Well, Lena is still considerably new, I must say,” Brainy answers. “She has been with the NCPD for a month and a half. Perhaps Kara is still, what is it they say? Ah, showing her the ropes.”

Nia hums, pondering the thought. “Maybe. But they really have gotten real close during that time, huh?”

“It’s possible, yes,” Brainy shrugs; takes Nia’s hand and clasps their hands together as they hit the lobby, pulling a charmed Nia out. “Maybe they really just hit it off.”

…

  
  


“I don’t understand,” Nia moans after another day of unsuccessful _reconnaissance_. “How hard is it to get more clues from Kara? Why are we still at _nil_?”

“Well, Kara’s been spending more time on the field for starters,” Vasquez replies, to which she earns a glare from Nia, being that her questions were more _rhetoric_ than anything.

(Nia blames her small stint in theater for _that_.)

She turns her attention back to _their_ board, staring helplessly— _pleadingly_ —at the lone square that now occupies the center, a giant, bolded question mark penned and colored in black inside it. “Who are you _Mystery Danvers_?”

“Maybe it’s me,” Lena says. She lifts herself up to one of the desks, grinning cheekily at Nia as she lets her legs crossed at the ankles dangle and sway back and forth loosely.

But Nia’s _not_ going to get distracted, _no_. Not even when Lena smiles _that_ pretty smile, and she looks adorable sitting like that, and looks real good in a loose black dress shirt that strangely reminds her of one that she’s seen Kara wear a few times.

Nia _refuses_ to be distracted, so she just rolls her eyes, and throws back her own cheeky grin. “Yeah right, Doctor _Luthor_ ,” she says, with much more weight on Lena’s last name. “Can we take this seriously now, please?”

“When have I ever not?”

…

  
  


It somewhat takes the backseat for the rest of Nia’s week, because as much as Nia wants to solve it, she really does have actual cases to work on.

But it never really leaves the forefront of Nia’s mind, as if it’s taken a permanent spot somewhere in her brain, and she’s suddenly so attuned to things she hasn’t been paying any kind of attention to previously.

She’s retrieving an evidence report when she spots it, an unfamiliar looking set of initials she’s never really noticed before. So she asks Sam, Lena’s _lab partner_ , for Nia’s lack of a better term. “Who’s _LKLD_? Are they new?”

“Oh, that’s Lena,” Sam says, her voice growing louder as she walks out of the specimen storage and back to her desk where Nia currently is, waiting to retrieve some lab reports for one of her cases. “She said her name is too long to fit the _Chief Examiner_ box, so she just types in her initials and signs it.”

“But what’s the _D_ for? Is it like, the _MD_ for forensic scientists?” Nia quizzes with a cheeky grin.

Sam stares at her, a look of confusion settling in on her face. “We both have _MDs_. But Lena has just completed her _PhD_ before transferring here.”

“Oh, so the _D_ in her name is for the _PhD_?”

“Are you serious?” Sam says, her confusion morphing into a blank stare. “You don’t know the _D_ in Lena’s name?”

“Look, it’s forensic science,” Nia reasons. “I have absolutely zero knowledge about it.”

“Oh, Detective Nal,” Sam coos, stifling a laugh. “You sweet summer child. It actually stands for Da—”

“Nia, there you are!”

Kara’s voice rings loud in the uncrowded lab’s floor, reaching Nia’s ears, and the urgency in her tone drowning out the rest of Sam’s words. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“What? What?” Nia replies, sensing the imperativeness. “What’s wrong? I was just getting some of my test results.”

Kara ambles towards where Nia is, then, “Captain wants an update about the robbery case witness.”

“Which robbery case?”

“The one in Fifth.”

“Which Fifth?”

“The one we’re supposed to interview today!”

“Oh, _fuck_ , that’s right now!” Nia screeches. And just as she’s scrambling for what to do, her smart watch beeps its reminder of the interview she’s scheduled with one of their witnesses.

She swipes the rest of the papers in Sam’s hand, throwing them inside the folder she’s cradling in hers. Then, she yells a _thanks, Sam_ over her shoulder, hightailing out of the lab with Kara straight on her heels.

…

  
  


They hit another snag in their plans another few days later, when Kara misses an entire day of work due to food poisoning. Not that Nia’s panicking or _anything_.

She really _isn’t_. Despite what the stiffness in her posture might say, and the very, _very_ tight grip of her fingers on the marker that nearly leaves dents, Nia Nal is completely fine.

It at least gives them one day to take a step back and go over everything they’ve gathered so far—the _bright_ side, as Nia’s grandmother always says.

But she’s also been banking on more of Lena’s insights, so when she doesn’t show up to their rendezvous, Nia maybe, _maybe_ , panics a little.

“Where’s Lena?” She asks, her gaze darting around and then fixing at the door, as if the mere act of waiting for her will magically conjure Lena to the briefing room.

“Hold on, I think I saw a message from her earlier,” Winn says. He fishes his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, pulling their group chat thread up to read Lena’s message. “Here it is! She said, _Sorry, I’m not in today. I’ve been babysitting_.”

“Babysitting?” Nia repeats, her tone dripping with disbelief, and her mind completely unable to imagine the ever regal _Doctor Luthor_ , of all people, babysitting. “For who?!”

Winn shrugs. “She didn’t say. Maybe for a sibling.”

“She does have a brother,” Brainy supplies.

Vasquez turns to face him then, looking a tad bit curious and admittedly a little creeped out. “How do you know these things?”

It’s Brainy’s turn to shrug. “I’m very observant.”

…

  
  


They finally get their much-sought after _big break_ a day into the last week. But Nia isn’t entirely sure if she wants to call it _that_ , when it all but kicks her out of the bet she’s trying real hard to win.

They’re both hunched over their respective desks when Kara stands and crosses the bullpen to borrow the correction fluid that’s on Vasquez’s desk; towers over the detective that Nia’s brain _pings_ an idea so hard, she can’t hardly wait for Kara to walk back.

So, naturally, she _doesn’t_. “It’s either Kara’s grown overnight or, _wow_ , you really are small, Detective Vasquez.”

“Can you look around, Detective Nal?” Vasquez lobs back. “Because I can’t seem to find anyone who asked. Isn’t that right, Detective Danvers?”

“Nope,” Kara repels, shaking her head as she walks back to her seat. “Nope. You two are not going to pull me in on this one.”

“That’s okay,” Nia says. “Us taller people know better anyway.”

“I don’t know about that,” Kara replies, blows loud air through her lips that she can’t help from coming out. “My baby’s still in denial.”

Nia grins in lieu of actually screaming out _gotcha_. “Your baby as in your better half?”

Kara just throws her _a_ look in response, though Nia can read _who else_ all over it. “Why? How tall are they?”

“ _Hmmm_ , average?” Kara says, a little uncertain. “Or, no. I _am_ average, so I guess more of shorter than the average height?”

“You mean—” Nia starts, panic building up in her chest because, _god_ , she got it wrong. “T-they’re not taller than you?”

“Yep,” Kara says, popping the _p_. “ _Gets super mad when I put the clean dishes on the topmost shelf_ kind of small.”

“O-oh.”

“She’s so small I get to be the big spoon when we cuddle,” Kara giggles, but Nia’s thoughts are too far gone to take notice.

…

  
  


Later, when she gets her _brain_ back and her thoughts in some semblance of order, she sends _911_ to their group chat that sends Vasquez and Winn running to the briefing room. 

But Lena merely strolls along, a bag of kale chips in her hand—that Nia remembers seeing on Kara’s desk the day before—chomping on one.

But Nia has far more pressing matters in mind than Lena’s food choices, so she quickly pulls out _their_ board from its hiding place and all but shoves it towards the center; jumps to business right away by putting big, red _Xs_ over Mon-El’s and James’ faces.

“Hey! What gives?” Winn yells, his tone dripping with disapproval.

“And what’s with the emergency, _again_?” Vasquez echoes.

“I just got a new lead from Kara herself,” Nia explains by way of greeting. “She said her better half isn’t taller than her, so Mon-El and James are out. And maybe Lucy—”

“Uh, _no_ ,” Vasquez quickly refutes. “I’m taller than Sergeant Lane, and Kara’s definitely taller than me, so—”

She trails off with a shrug, her smirk overflowing with smugness that Nia wants to wipe off of her face—preferably kick it away or something much less violent.

But that’s an Incident Report in the waiting so Nia just turns to Lena and asks, “And Kieran?”

“Is as tall as I am,” Lena replies, leisurely dipping her fingers inside the bag of kale chips and fishing another one out that she pops straight into her mouth. “Which makes me still in the running.”

“God,” Nia groans. She hunches over one of the nearby desks, burying her face in her hands to groan some more. “I can’t believe the fling from almost a decade ago has greater chances of winning this.”

“Maybe I should have been a detective,” Lena ponders out loud; pops a third chip that Nia can definitely use a bite of now to cheer her up. “My gut seems to always be right.

…

  
  


But even with as much _sneaking around_ as they’ve done, it is practically a given that they get _made_ —as Winn prefers to put it—at some point. They have been asking the most random questions in a suspiciously increasing amount, ones that mostly do focus on Kara’s significant other aside from the usual _hey how was your morning_. 

And the prolonged absences from their designated workstations that they once thought go unnoticed, in fact have _not_ gone unnoticed by Kara at all. She’s just too polite to ask, and too respectful of one’s privacy to pry. 

It goes down like this:

Nia strolls in first, without a backward glance because she slips through the scant space with no problems at all.

Vasquez follows her in, about a minute or two after; looks out left and right before gliding in smoothly with incredibly practiced ease.

Winn comes in third, whistling. But he has one of the tablets from _IT and Intelligence_ as his cover so it’s not exactly out of the norm.

Brainy trails after him, pretending to pore over the same charts Winn is looking through.

It’s Lena who waltzes in last, all regal and poise even with a nondescript paper cup full of coffee in her hand—that Nia swears she’s seen her swipe from Kara’s desk.

“As you guys all know,” Nia begins, and is finally admitting to herself that _yes_ , she is _definitely_ panicking. “We’ve only got one more day left until Kara’s anniversary. And we’re still nowhere close to figuring out who _Mystery Danvers_ is.”

She clears her throat then, leafs through the notebook she’s carried with her for a blank page before addressing them again. “I think it’s best to just leave it for the meantime and focus on getting her a gift.”

“But what about the bet?” Vasquez grunts. “I told you lot I never gamble with my—”

“I know!” Nia breaks off, gesturing a hand that slices through the air. “It’s still up for grabs. We’ll just—it’ll just take the backseat for a little while. Just until Kara’s day is over.”

“Why can’t we just give them _Mr. and Mrs._ mugs?” Winn then says, crossing his arms. “Or _Mrs. and Mrs._? Either way, we get two pairs since one of them is bound to be right.”

“That’s so lame, Winn. I refuse to tarnish my reputation for something _that_ uninteresting,” Nia refutes, rather wildly. “Besides, how are we supposed to know which actual pair to give her? We can’t exactly switch them as soon as she opens it and we got it wrong! I know I’m magical but I’m not freaking Houdini.”

“I agree,” Lena says, a smirk hidden behind the lip of the coffee lid. “Definitely not those mugs.”

Nia just sticks her tongue out at Winn at that, a wordless _I told you so_ that Winn scoffs at.

Though, Lena speaks again before anyone else can, seemingly not done. She sets her coffee cup down, then says, “But in all seriousness, this is getting embarrassing for you guys.” 

She sucks at her teeth, rolling another invisible ring around her left fourth finger that Nia’s starting to notice is a frequent absentminded habit. “For a bunch of National City’s finest detectives, this is just—”

“Disappointing, I know,” Nia finishes for her, grumbling out another sigh. “Can we hammer that fact in later? When we’ve picked which gift to get?”

And Lena would’ve lorded it over their heads more—because frankly, she’s starting to get offended that no one is picking up on every single crumb she’s dropped that’ll lead them to her trail—if not for Kara’s sudden presence disrupting their very serious discussion.

“There you guys are! Captain J’onzz wants—wait, what’s _this_?”

And for all the panic mixed with a dash of enthusiasm that Nia’s been filling the room with not even ten seconds ago, the silence that suddenly blankets them is stiff and _blundering_.

“It’s—uhm—” Nia tries to say, to _save_. 

But Kara’s already stalking towards the board, and her eyes are already glued to each and every detail they’ve scribbled down. From the multiple colored yarns they’ve used to connect each piece of information to the lone square frame sitting in the middle, to their list labeled _prospects_ and the chronological time. Until finally, Kara pins it on the table topped with all _their_ names.

“Will someone please tell me what the _heck_ is going on?”

Winn quietly retreats one step, but Lena simply pushes him back to his original spot before he can slip away completely; claps him harder on his shoulder blade to make him start talking.

“We were uh—we were going to give you a gift. For your anniversary,” he begins to say. “But then it turned into this huge thing that became a bet, then became somewhat of a case—”

“A bet?!”

“—because you can take the detective out of a case, but not the case out of a detective.”

“I do not believe that’s a thing, Detective Schott,” Brainy says, earning him a glare from Winn as he hisses _unhelpful, very unhelpful_.

“But,” Kara tries once more. Yet, it’s unmistakable how she’s having difficulty wrapping her head around the entire thing. “Why didn’t you guys just ask?”

“We wanted to keep it as a surprise,” Winn explains, unable to look Kara in the eye.

“And,” Nia then says, clears her throat in preparation to answer. “I didn’t want to be the co-worker who got their co-worker’s spouse wrong.”

“Oh my god,” Kara mumbles, still in some state of disbelief.

Winn and Nia both turn towards Lena then, staring at her expectantly, their gazes _telling_ Lena to speak up and appease her best friend.

So Lena slides out of her seat, waltzing towards where Kara is. She places a warm palm on the small of Kara’s back, drawing circles in the way she _knows_ Kara likes. “They wanted to give us mugs, darling,” she then says. “Someone had to vote _no_.”

And like a miracle that’s unfolding right before their very eyes, Kara _smiles_ . She rolls her eyes and shakes her head like she’s shaking the whole thing off her system, and then she smiles at Lena like she’s the only thing she sees—the only _one_ that matters. “I’m guessing that’s you?”

“It was the _Mrs. and Mrs._ pair,” Lena replies. “Of course I’m voting no.”

Nia’s eyes go wide, just as Winn asks, “Wait, what’s going on?”

“Why is she—” Nia stutters, fumbling for an immediate explanation. “Why is she the one voting no?”

Vasquez hops off the short shelf she’s perched herself on, stalking forward and crossing her arms at Kara and Lena. “Yeah, what gives?”

Kara sighs, feels a headache coming from a mile away. But she takes comfort in the arm Lena snakes around her waist, the warmth of Lena’s touch a steady source.

(It always is.)

“Because,” Kara says. “She’s _the_ better half.”

A discord of _whats_ fills the entire briefing room, in varying degrees of pitches and tones, with Winn’s and Nia’s being the highest.

“H-how did we not know this?!” 

“Because _my wife_ ,” Lena says, glaring at Kara, though she squeezes Kara’s hip to let her know she’s merely being playful. “Keeps on forgetting to file the papers to HR.”

 _I’m sorry_ , Kara mouths, lips pursing to a pout. “But yeah, I keep forgetting to file the papers—which I will now, after this, for real—and so we’re keeping it on the _dl_.”

“And I suppose we’ve never been a fan of public displays of affection,” Lena adds easily. “Especially in the workplace.”

“But it’s not like we’re hiding it,” Kara supplies, wrapping an arm around Lena’s waist, too. As if it’s the only proof everyone will need. “I literally have lunch with her every day.”

“We thought that was you just being the _saint_ that you are!” Nia reasons. And it’s as if she’s suddenly switched places with Kara, and she’s the one who’s struggling to wrap her mind around the _completely_ unforeseen turn of events. “And you keep calling her your _better half_!” 

“Because she _is_ my better half! _The_ better half between the both of us. I like calling her that,” Kara defends, turning to her wife’s _that’s not true, darling_ if only to whisper _it really is, and I really do babe_. 

“Oh yeah?! Name one time you called her by her name?”

She returns her attention to Nia again. “Literally just the other day? I told you Lena’s downstairs.”

“Lena’s office is _literally_ downstairs! That _so_ doesn’t count.”

“And you!” Nia turns to Lena then. “You knew this whole time and you didn’t tell us!”

“I told you many different times,” Lena answers, arching one brow, like she’s daring Nia to prove her wrong. “But you never believed me.”

“But—you don’t even wear a ring,” Nia replies, a tad sharp, _biting_ ; points at Lena’s still bare fingers as if it will prove something. Though, it’s completely lost on Nia which part she’s even trying to uphold.

“I never wear them when I’m down at the lab,” Lena explains. “Because I don’t want anything to ruin it. You do remember that I work with various types of specimens?”

“But whenever we’re up here, you don’t wear them either!”

“Well, every time you send _911_ I’m almost always down at the lab. I don’t exactly have the time to run to my safe and put them back on.”

“Oh my god,” Nia murmurs over and over, in between short pants that Kara almost worries about if Nia didn’t stop after the _seventh_ time. “Oh my god, I need to sit down.”

“You are sitting down, Nia,” Kara points out. “But maybe some water?”

…

  
  


Later, when all has been said and done, and Kara has laid down as many details as she can, and Lena leaves the prize money in their hands, Nia’s finally able to discern and digest all the clues she’s obviously missed out.

It is admittedly a little excruciating fact for her to swallow, a definite notch on her _top of the class_ pride. But there’s still the matter of _which_ gift to give Kara and her better half, and Nia thinks she can take that as her ultimate chance of redeeming herself.

( _The bright side_ , as Nana Nal says.)

“Now what?” Winn asks as they watch Kara’s retreating back, with her _wife_ in tow.

Or, two can play _Lena’s_ game. 

“Now we give them those _Mrs._ and _Mrs._ mugs.” She grins, looking pretty like the devil. “As payback.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg the longest fill i've written hjkhfksfs but i had so much fun writing this mess, so i hope you guys have fun reading it!
> 
> i'd really love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	22. honey, i couldn’t walk the lines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the love you guys have shown for the last two fills! i'm so glad you had as much fun as i had!

**one**

Sometimes, Kara wonders what it would be like, to taste Lena without whiskey in her lips.

The first time it happens, Kara deems it a moment of weakness.

Lena has had a few— _a drink had been taken_ , is what she’d said when Kara had asked what was going on. But Kara _knows_ it’s not just as simple as _a_ drink, not when Lillian’s newest anti-alien rhetoric has been dragging Lena’s name—and consequently L-Corp’s—through the mud.

Her mother’s _scathing_ response to Lena’s pledge of creating a more alien-friendly environment and workforce, her first ever move in a long series of steps that Lena had slaved for intricately for months.

It’s not even something remotely new. Lena’s used to the vicious, _vicious_ words spilling out of Lillian’s lips every time her mother opens her mouth. It never cuts _any less_ , but Lena has built some sort of resistance overtime; bits and pieces of herself: the tight buns of her hair, her blood red lips, the clothes she wears, pieced and held together by _one shot_ of scotch or whiskey like her very own armor.

Yet Lena is _tired_ too, exhausted to her bones and as raw as the veins beneath her skin. It’s a day she feels like she’s spent _fighting_ with just about everyone, even Supergirl— _maybe_ especially Supergirl, or herself.

But Lena’s never fought with Kara—never fights with Kara. So she calls her. Despite the clock on her wall tolling the hour right past midnight and the alcohol running in her bloodstream. Despite not even knowing if Kara would bother to pick up. 

She calls her.

And Kara picks up, of course she does. Because that’s just the kind of person Kara is. Groggy and voice still full of sleep, yet, the first thing she asks right after _hello_ is if Lena’s okay.

And Lena’s farthest from the kind of person Kara _is_ , so she says, “Everything’s fine. I just needed to hear your voice.”

(And that’s how Lena _knows_ she’s had one whiskey too many, when she openly admits a secret she’s been guarding so closely.)

“ _You sure?_ ” Kara slurs. Lena can make out the rustling of Kara’s blanket as she speaks, the slide of Kara’s pajamas against her sheets; the thud of Kara’s feet on her floor. Lena can hear it all—can picture Kara flicking her lights on and going for a glass of water to wake her up some more.

It makes Lena smile, Kara’s soft breaths drowning the vitriol woven in each lilt of Lillian’s tone that Lena can still hear. And just that is enough for Lena—that _kindness_ is enough so she says, “Yes. I’ll go to sleep in a few minutes. You should go back, too.”

Kara turns quiet for the next few beats. 

(Lena would give _anything_ to hear what she’s thinking, but she’s also a little too afraid to ask.)

But then there’s more rustling, and the unmistakable rustle of clothes against tan skin that makes Lena flush even more than the liquor in her system already has. And then Kara’s saying _I’m coming over_ before Lena’s sluggish brain can even catch up.

The call has long been disconnected by the time her thoughts kick back up, the knock on her door making her wonder how long she’s been sprawled on her kitchen island, staring at the unlit screen of her phone. 

Yet, everything else ebbs away when Kara waltzes into Lena’s apartment, armed with a gentle smile and sleepy eyes that Lena likes to think as _mercy_.

She wraps an arm around Lena’s shoulder, squeezing her tight; presses a kiss on her temple that Lena thinks she hasn’t earned yet, but Kara gives to her freely.

“Lena, what’s going on?” Kara’s soft voice asks, echoing through her kitchen like when the needle hits the record and it starts to play Lena’s favorite song. “How much have you had?’

“A drink had been taken,” Lena replies; leans into Kara’s heat and savors the comforting warmth Kara’s palm rubs all over her shoulder.

“A drink,” Kara repeats. It’s playful, but Lena can feel how it’s dripping with disbelief, too. And while Lena has promised to never lie to Kara, there are still some things she’s completely unable to be honest about.

So Lena just nods, loosely because she’s starting to feel the whiskey in her head, the liquor finally easing the day’s tight grip it has on her limbs.

Kara merely sighs in response, mumbling an _okay_ right into Lena’s ear. She leans towards the counter, pushing the glass still half full of amber liquid out of Lena’s reach, and then hoists Lena up to her feet; murmurs, “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

She leads Lena to her room, and it really would’ve been easy to just pick her up and carry her to bed. But Lena _doesn’t_ know—Lena doesn’t _know_ and the last thing Kara wants is for her to find out _this_ way. So she just leads Lena, holds her upright but not too tight; holds her like she’s perfectly safe in her safe space even with— _especially in_ —her slightly intoxicated state.

She tucks Lena in with the utmost care, taking off her heels and freeing the bun that holds Lena’s hair pristinely. They fall over Lena’s pillow like some sort of halo that makes her look _ethereal_ , as Kara’s fingers rake through the smooth strands.

And Kara finds herself needing to lean back and away before she gets too close to the light and it burns her.

But Lena’s humming in comfort, and she’s taking Kara’s other hand to place the flat of its palm over her chest, as if Lena wants a form of _contact_ that’s closer to her heart. Then, she blinks at Kara sleepily, a lazy smile on her lips as she asks, “Will you stay the night? With me?”

A resounding _yes_ bounces all over Kara’s head, slipping out of her mouth like three other words she’s been wanting to say but can’t find the courage to. So she tells her, “Yeah, of course.”

She climbs on Lena’s bed with ease that shouldn’t be but feels it in her bones; settles right next to Lena and stretches her arm when Lena moves, shuffling to press onto her side.

It’s such a _non-staple_ in their sleepovers, that Kara is surprised herself, too. But Kara also knows that Lena isn’t _sober_ , so when Lena noses her way into Kara’s personal space, brushing the barest hint of lips against Kara’s own, Kara never makes herself forget _that_ fact.

(But it doesn’t mean that she forgets it happened, too; doesn’t think she’ll ever forget the way Lena’s breath hits her jaw when she whispers to Kara right after, “Thank you, for staying. You’re the only one who ever does.”)

…

  
  


**two**

They form some semblance of a relationship after _everything._ After Kara’s lies. After Lena’s. After Non Nocere, and after Leviathan has finally been defeated and Lex has been put away for good.

Though Kara isn’t really sure what to call it. It’s a _friendship_ and it’s not at the same time, because Kara doesn’t know how to be _just_ friends with Lena anymore, and Lena is still trying to figure out what she’d like Kara to be in her life.

(Because Lena may not have the best of her memory during _that_ moment, but she’s not stupid. She knows there’s a reason why Kara’s always on her side.

And she’s not blind. She can see the way Kara looks at her sometimes, like Lena is some sort of miracle she’s waiting for to happen, something that’s right in front of her yet so out of reach.)

There’s an awkward air that surrounds them even though Kara finds herself climbing on Lena’s couch at the odd hours of the night, with Lena just scooting wordlessly as she holds her _only_ dose of whiskey for the night.

Lena doesn’t ask why Kara stays, and Kara is too afraid to ask why Lena keeps on offering her a chance to.

The awkward air turns into some sort of bubble that Kara walks straight into every time she steps inside Lena’s apartment. It wraps around them and lays the uncertainty heavy on Kara’s shoulders. But then, Lena greets her with a smile that becomes less and less stiff and more and more softer each night they spend together, and Kara feels the ambiguity of it all start to ebb away.

She becomes a familiar face once more, one that Lena sees even behind her lids when she closes her eyes. Lena doesn’t really know what _it_ means, but she’s just glad that this is something she gets to keep.

But bubbles are meant to pop. It can’t defy science, no matter how hard Kara tries to keep it afloat.

The puncture comes from the soft squeak of Kara’s door as Lena’s hefty weight presses against it, and _it_ stumbles straight into Kara’s arms with hair windswept and clothes disheveled.

“I’m the last Luthor left, can you believe?”

“But you’re also the only Luthor that matters,” Kara tells her. Wholly honest and completely earnest, her gaze darting all over Lena’s face and drinking her in. “To me. To all of us.”

But Lena’s eyes are wild, and there’s whiskey in her breath. Kara can almost taste it in the air—in the scant space in between them that Lena crosses. “I _know_. That’s why I—that’s why I love you.”

And then Lena kisses her. And it would’ve been everything that Kara had ever wanted, if not for the ruins of their _friendship_ standing right below their feet, still trying to piece, and mend, and heal.

So Kara stays still, lets her mind pack away one more memory, throwing it to a proverbial box she keeps, with Lena’s name written all over its walls.

Until Lena peels herself off, stifling a choked sob that rattles all over her chest.

“I don’t want to say that I love you back,” Kara whispers; swallows the lump that climbs in her throat too—her _heart_. “Not when you’re drunk, and I know that you might still hate me in the morning.”

…

  
  


**one**

“What’s it like? Midvale?”

“There are trees. Way too many trees,” Kara replies, laughing at the scrunch of Lena’s noise. “And a lake behind our house. So a big city girl like you might miss the skyscrapers and the tall buildings.”

Lena looks down at her mug, at the small bits and pieces of marshmallow swirling around; lets her thumb play with the mug’s lip, then, “I don’t know. This big city girl might just like it.”

“I mean,” Kara then says. She drinks the last of her hot choco before reaching towards her coffee table to set the now empty mug down. “It’s almost Thanksgiving. If you don’t have plans, why not come home with me?”

She’s rewarded by a bright, dimpled grin, a far cry from the tight smiles Lena used to give her back then, when everything was still so up in the air and Kara was never sure of ever getting their friendship back. When everything was covered in lies, and hurt, and pain, and doused with whiskey until one of them set it on fire and watched it burn.

(Kara had picked up the pieces then, Lena’s _and_ hers; stitched it all back together patiently till Lena was ready to see the bigger picture— _their_ bigger picture.)

Though it turns shy the next second, especially when Kara ducks to meet green eyes just to tell her, “I’m serious.”

Lena takes her own last sip of the sweet concoction—still half full unlike Kara’s—and sets the mug down next to where Kara’s is. Then, she folds her legs underneath her, shifting on the couch as she starts fiddling with her fingers. “But, shouldn’t we talk about things first? Before—before Midvale?”

“Yeah, we should.” Kara agrees, smile soft and tender. “But only if you’re ready.”

There’s a part of Lena that thinks she never will be. But there’s an even bigger part of her that just _burns_ for Kara. That same part of her who wants to lose herself in Kara’s smile, in the warmth of her arms. In that tiny thing sitting in Kara’s chest that must be the biggest miracle, if Lena’s ever seen one. Because such a tiny thing is able to _love_ Lena wholly despite her last name, her stupid decisions, her flaws.

It’s that part that she gives in to, to nights no longer plagued by whiskey but sprinkled with popcorn on movie nights, and hot choco in cold evenings, and Kara’s laugh spread all over, like the sky.

She kisses Kara with _that_ part, yearning and falling and falling and falling until she feels Kara’s lips move against her own. Until Kara’s fingers comb through her hair, and her tongue swipes at Lena’s bottom lip out of courtesy and the utmost respect she holds Lena with.

Until Kara pushes deeper, and Lena no longer knows where she ends and Kara begins.

(Until Kara no longer has to wonder what it’s like, to taste Lena without whiskey in her tongue.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of a different tone/mood (but the prompt really was calling for it :p)
> 
> i'd really love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	23. the superstars sucked into the super massive

There are a few things on this Earth that make Lena Luthor weak. A handful of things that Lena can count in her fingers. 

Her mother’s love in its purest form for one, spread over and wedged in between succinct praises sent over text, weekly calls, and the flowers she sends Lena both on occasion and then not. 

The smiles that greet her whenever she drops by Luthor Children’s Hospital as often as she can, ever resilient kids regaling her with their stories about magic and fairy tales, aliens and space; the monsters under their beds that they’ve managed to vanquish. 

The softness in Kara’s dopey grin the night before, matched with the sleepy look in her eyes when they’ve finally sated their thirst and succumbed to sleep, and the stark contrast of it, bright and beaming early the next morning.

The way Kara’s smirking at her _right now_. From right across the room, a long fancy table and sixteen fancy rolling chairs in between them. And yet, it still sends a shiver down Lena’s spine that she feels on her skin in _ripples_ , seeping right down into her bones.

But Lena curbs the quiver threatening to surface, keeps it inside of her and lets it curl her toes. Not when Kara has seemingly started a game that Lena refuses to lose. With the hooded gaze she sends Lena just as Lena’s stepped into the room, and the swipe of her tongue that wets her bottom lip, slow in ways that Kara knows drives Lena crazy and _fevered_ with want and need.

So Lena simply rests her weight against the double doors, one hand behind her back as her fingers wrap around the long handle tightly for some semblance of control. Though there is no tremble in her voice when she _rasps_ , in a low octave that Lena _knows_ pools heat below Kara’s stomach. “Is there any particular reason why you asked to meet here, Miss Danvers?”

Kara pushes herself off one of the tall glass windows, walking away in slow, strutting steps with one hand pursed inside her burgundy slacks. The other traces a trail over the shiny oak surface of the table, the tips of her fingers sliding with purpose as she passes it by.

Lena tracks the motion with hunger in her gaze. Her grip on the metal handle tightens more as she feels the urge to stalk towards where Kara is—feels her fingers flex with the need to curl themselves around Kara’s skinny black tie instead.

Especially when Kara replies with an easy shrug, affecting innocence, but the roughness in her voice tells Lena an entirely different story. “No reason.”

Her hand props against the wall when she reaches the other side of the room, flicking one of the many switches. A soft whirring fills the air as the room begins to dim, and when Lena looks up to follow the sound, she finds wall panels starting to roll down from the ceiling, covering the entire room. 

Kara then adjusts the lights’ brightness, says, “We uh, installed these new rolling soundproof walls. And I wanted to test them out.”

Lena brings her gaze back to Kara then, tilts her head so that her hair tumbles down onto her shoulders; revels in the way Kara’s eyes follow the movement until they settle on Lena’s exposed collarbone. “And how do you suggest we do that?”

“I uh—” Kara tries to reply. But the _dip_ is a little far too distracting, and the growing smirk on Lena’s lips isn’t helping at all, either. So she moves and rounds the table to gain her upper hand back, pulling the chair sitting by the head. She makes a show of popping the button of her bespoke suit jacket, flicking at the hems before perching herself on the vacant space. “I was hoping you could tell me. Any ideas?”

It’s the arch of Lena’s brow that begins her march towards Kara, Lena’s hips swaying in a rhythm that’s in time with Kara’s heartbeat, the thuds of her _Blahniks_ matching with the _lub dub_ of Kara’s heart.

And it’s perhaps both the longest ten seconds of Kara’s young life and the most anticipated—has her biting at her bottom lip as she feels her breath hold itself in her chest at the sultry gaze Lena sends her way.

…

  
  


If there is one law of nature that governs Alex’s life, it’s that _anything that can go wrong will go wrong_.

It starts with her morning. Alex’s alarm goes off just right in time, like Alex wanted it to. But that’s not the problem. It’s having to leave the warmth of her bed at five in the morning, and consequently the woman that’s been keeping her warm the entire night.

Which Sam does make a point of telling her, when Alex steps out of the shower and hears Sam say, “You’re really trading morning sex for a meeting, huh?”

Alex groans, tipping her head back up as she slides her pants on. “Don’t start.”

“You’re already dressed,” Sam replies. But she lets the sheets fall off, leaving her bare; grins cheekily at Alex, then, “How can I?”

Alex can only sigh. Besides, the meeting isn’t until later anyway.

…

  
  


When Lena does reach Kara, she props herself against the edge of the table instead of Kara’s lap that Kara was _aiming_ for. She simply watches Kara _watch_ her, as if they’re both waiting for the other to _break_ first.

But Lena has an edge that Kara doesn’t have right _this_ moment, in the form of the gold necklace Kara has given her a week ago, its black onyx pendant surrounded by tiny diamonds, glimmering as they catch the light.

Lena drawls a hum, full of purpose as she plays with the pendant right just above the low scoop of her top; tugs at the chain with the tip of her finger to pull it even lower. 

Then, Lena says _perhaps you should just show me_ , and something inside Kara _snaps_. She launches off the chair with _one_ thing in mind, a primal need she needs to sate as she all but hurls herself towards Lena. Her hands land on the edge of the table, at each of Lena’s sides, her fingers curling around with an _ache_ to touch.

It’s Kara who leans in first, but Lena meets her halfway, pushing closer and kissing her deeper, until Kara’s pliant and yielding under her touch. Her legs part of their own accord, one foot arching to pull at Kara until she’s slotted in between the tiny space.

Expert hands shed the suit jacket off. Kara has to pull away to do so, but Lena’s curling her fingers around the tie like she’s been _wanting_ to ever since she saw Kara in her burgundy suit, pulling her right back as soon as the piece of clothing hits the floor.

But Kara’s still _not_ touching her—and it’s something that Lena has always loved and _hated_ , because sometimes Lena just wants to be _claimed_ and this is one of those moments—so Lena begrudgingly lets go of the tie to take Kara’s hands and place heated palms on both her thighs.

It’s the only kind of permission Kara needs to spur her on. She slides them to the small of Lena’s back, and then _lower_ , pulling Lena even more closer to her so that they’re pressed together in all the right places.

Lena feels more than sees Kara’s fingers hike the hem of her dress up, her own hands busying themselves with untucking and unbuttoning Kara’s dress shirt. It’s a little difficult to maneuver, because Lena doesn’t _want_ to stop kissing Kara and Kara intends to do the same, but Lena is nothing but determined to push _forward_. So she breaks away, if only to whisper in Kara’s ear and leave her an even bigger mess than she already is.

 _I want you so much right now_.

Kara shudders at the hot breath that hits her skin, tearing a sharp gasp right out of her throat. She makes quick work of finding the zipper of Lena’s skirt then, trembling hands tugging it down as she feels kiss-swollen lips trace the curve of her jaw.

But it’s too much work to take it off— _it’s_ too much work and Kara can’t concentrate. So she just hikes Lena’s skirt up instead, her hands clawing at porcelain skin as Kara slips them underneath with intent and purpose.

White hot _heat_ shoots down Lena’s spine, pooling in between her legs, and right where Kara’s pressed against her. It coils deep within her gut, struggling to be freed by Kara’s touch.

And Lena can feel it, can feel _it_ building up and up and up, coiled so, so tight like the constrained moan that escapes her throat. But she needs more, too—more of Kara’s skin on hers, the heat Kara exudes, and the scent of her filling Lena’s senses. So Lena leans away then, pulling her shirt over her head.

Kara’s eyes grow impossibly darker at _that_ sight. There’s a growl that rumbles deep within her chest that Lena almost whimpers at, but Kara doesn’t give her a chance to, diving right back in and _claiming_ Lena the way Lena has been wanting her to.

…

  
  


She’s late. Of course Alex is. But that isn’t the problem, either.

It’s the prototype. It isn’t in her office like she’s ordered it to be an hour ago. It’s still down at their labs, having last minute touches to fix some last minute problems. Their best engineers are already on it, but Alex is more worried about their client. He’s not exactly someone that likes to be kept waiting.

Though Alex hopes that his affable smile means that he doesn’t necessarily mind. And to make up for the tardiness on their part, Alex has the best coffee they can offer prepared, and their most state of the art conference room set up for their showcase.

She leads her client and his gaggle of lawyers to their topmost floor, murmuring another apology as they pass by Kara’s office. The doors are closed like usual, but Alex can see the lights spilling out of the tiny gap below. And if Alex doesn’t spot Kara’s assistant on her desk, she thinks nothing of it.

She’s pleased to see the rolling wall panels already down when they reach the conference room, because, _finally_ , one thing has gone right on the series of wrong things that has plagued her day so far.

Still, she asks for one more minute to spare from her client, just to check if everything in the room has been set up to her absolute liking.

Alex is going through the mental checklist she has inside her head as she pushes the door open: wall panels, lights, hologram display. But she stops at _projector_ , her brain seizing right on the spot when she _doesn’t_ find the last two things on her checklist and finds two _others_ that Alex would never ever dream of witnessing.

She pulls the door closed almost in a daze, returning to her clients with half of her brain suspended on the unfortunate sight she stumbled on. Though she wouldn’t be as brilliant as she is if Alex doesn’t manage to function despite it. 

So she flags down Marissa from the nearby _Concierge_ , tells her in very precise terms to serve their clients the _civet_ coffee they specifically import from a small town in the Philippines, before excusing herself once more and stalking inside the conference room.

…

  
  


“Kara, what in the ever loving _fuck_?” Alex yells as soon as she bursts inside. Lena’s thankfully no longer perched on the table with her head thrown back in obvious pleasure—an image that will forever be ingrained in Alex’s mind no matter how much she tries to erase it—and Kara has all of the buttons of her dress redone.

But Lena also didn’t have the time to pull her own top back on, so Kara just drapes her suit jacket to cover her up, its loose form thankfully allowing the lapels to overlap just enough to hide Lena’s half-nakedness underneath.

“In the conference room? _Really_?”

Kara steps right in front of her, eclipsing Lena’s smaller frame to shield her from Alex’s ire; gives her a chance to wear Kara’s suit jacket more comfortably and fix her skirt, smoothening it back to as much decent as it can be.

“We were uhm—we were fooling around,” Kara replies. “And got carried away?”

“You have an office to fool around in!” Alex hisses, the vein on her forehead popping out from the effort. “It’s as big as this entire fucking room, Kara!”

“Well you ruined that for me!” Kara lobs back just as easily, as if she’s been waiting for the perfect chance to do so. “This is payback!”

“Oh my god,” Alex grunts. She pinches the bridge of her nose as an attempt to calm down, reminds herself that there are very, very important businesses to attend to as much as she would like to yell at her sister some more. “We’ll talk about this more later. I _need_ the room.”

Probably needs the table cleaned and doused with bleach ten ways to Sunday, too, along with her brain to forget the last five minutes.

“Yeah, sure, later,” Kara mumbles. But she’s already too distracted with the prospect of leaving—and perhaps continuing where Lena and her left off, much to Alex’s disgust—which Kara only proves right when she whispers, “Which office? Yours or mine?”

“I’m feeling a little adventurous. What about the backseat of my car?”

Alex gags, then, “For fuck’s sake, I can still hear you!”

…

  
  


Sitting at the elegant lounge right outside the modern conference room, Bruce Wayne takes another leisurely sip of his steaming coffee. It’s admittedly the first time he has tried it, so he’s taking as much time as he can to enjoy the cup.

The mug is on his lips when the double doors crack open once more, a disheveled Kara pulling an equally disheveled Lena Luthor in tow. The smudges on Kara’s mouth match the mussed shade that Lena wears proudly on her lips, and Bruce can’t help the low chuckle that escapes from him.

He tips his coffee cup at Lena in greeting as they pass him by, can’t quite resist the quip that slips out of his lips. “Corporate espionage going well, I see?”

Lena simply arches a haughty brow in response, a smirk curling on her own lips as she replies, “Didn’t I tell you it’s working?”

She lets Kara pull her then, tucking herself under the arm Kara snakes around her shoulders as Kara takes her towards her private elevator and straight down to the parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when i tell you this universe is living in my mind rent free......
> 
> i'd really love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	24. way down we go

“Fancy seeing you here, Miss Luthor.”

Lena jumps slightly, admittedly a little surprised when Sam suddenly appears and eclipses her sight. But she’s not at the helm of a Fortune 500 company for nothing, so she _doesn’t_ show it—keeps her face blank and unamused in a way Sam both hates and admires.

“Oh, that’s just _cold_ ,” Sam says. Though she’s laughing. “And amazing. You really have to teach me that sometime.”

“Perhaps,” Lena replies with the slightest of shrugs that barely lifts her shoulders. “When you’ve earned it.”

It’s quite a sight to behold, really. Lena in denim jeans and a blue and red polyester shirt that bears Kara’s name on her back, yet, she still manages to look imposing and resplendent with a teasing smirk on her face.

(Sam both hates _and_ admires that, too.)

“Fair enough,” Sam replies, chuckling. She trains her gaze back to the grassy field where Lena has been staring at for the last five minutes, more specifically, to the blonde figure currently juggling a ball in her feet while running around her teammates in circles.

Her hair is already tied up and ready for the upcoming game. But Sam can tell that her attention isn’t entirely in it yet, judging by the way she keeps on kicking the ball in between Alex’s legs during warm up, and grinning at her cheekily every time she does.

She hears Lena laugh beside her, especially when Coach Grant’s voice echoes across the field to chastise Kara’s antics. Kara has the decency to look chastened as she twists around to apologize, though the tongue she sticks out Alex’s way tells both Lena and her that she probably really isn’t.

Coach Grant then lets out another yell, shouting distinct instructions of changing warm up drills. Sam takes that time to turn her gaze towards her best friend, prodding at Lena’s side with an elbow that Lena only rolls her eyes at. “So,” Sam starts. “How are things?”

“My day has gone well, thank you,” Lena easily deflects. “I signed two multi-million dollar deals today, and approved five new prototypes. You were present in all of those meetings.”

Sam snorts, throws Lena an unamused glare. “I meant with Kara.”

“They’re—” Lena begins to reply. But there’s an ensuing flush that dots her cheeks at the mere mention of Kara’s name, and _really_ , Sam would tease her about it to her heart’s content, but Lena looks so incredibly abashed and just genuinely happy that Sam doesn’t have the heart to ruin the moment. “They’re great. Really, really great.”

“Yeah?” Her best friend answers. She leans in closer to Lena, part fulfilling the _annoying, gossiping_ _best friend_ , though it’s mostly to avoid any unwarranted attention as the stadium starts to get filled with more and more people. 

Granted they’re seated at the lowest row of bleachers closest to the pitch, and it’s just the two of them occupying the entire row for the moment. And while Kara and Lena’s relationship has been the talk of the entire city since they first got spotted together, Sam refuses to be the one to spill any details, especially out of carelessness. 

“I figured. You’ve never missed a game yet.”

Lena arches a brow at her. “And you have?”

“Touché.”

…

  
  


A loud whistle signals the end of warm ups. Kara and her teammates prepare to run back into the tunnel, but Kara makes a quick detour, heading towards Lena’s spot instead.

Lena stands to meet her by the railing, both of them sharing a smile. And Kara’s eyes glimmer at the club jersey that Lena has donned on for the game, clear blues growing darker when Lena twists to say something to Sam on purpose, giving Kara a glimpse of her _name_ that Lena wears.

But there’s a better time for that, Kara thinks, and a better _image_ that Kara can’t wait to see. She shakes her thoughts, steering them back to the game at hand and the reason for her impromptu detour.

“Babe,” Kara says. She darts both her hands up and grips at the railing, hoisting herself up so that she’s at least on Lena’s eye level. “Hi.”

“Hi, darling,” Lena replies with a chuckle. “What on earth are you doing?”

“I’m about to head back and change,” Kara explains. She grunts a little from the effort she’s exerting, lets her body drop for a quick rest before hoisting herself up again. “Can I have a kiss, please? For good luck?”

Lena’s lips twitch into a shy smile in response, but she does lean down as Kara has asked; presses her lips against Kara’s for a sweet, chaste kiss that Lena knows Sam will tease her relentlessly about after. 

“Good luck,” she whispers just as Kara steals another in between. “Score a goal for me?”

“I always do.”

And, with Kara looking at her like she’s already won the game and it hasn’t even started, Lena finds that she doesn’t really care.

…

  
  


The score is _two nil_ in favor of Kara’s team, with Kara contributing the very first goal just five minutes since the whistle blew. Alex has scored the second—which warranted a _getting lucky_ comment from Sam that Lena didn’t need to hear at all.

And now, they’re streaking down the field again after Nia has stolen the ball from a bad pass right on midfield. NCFC’s front line takes off, Kara and Alex flanking the two sides while Vasquez runs to the very top.

Nia sends the ball to Alex first, as Alex manages to shake off her defenders before Kara does. But Kara has been on a _wicked_ streak, and isn’t showing signs of stopping anytime soon. She waits for Alex to get to a certain spot before breaking away from her defender through a few fakes, sprinting towards the position where they can finally run one of their plays.

Alex sends the ball soaring to where Kara is, landing at a perfect spot that Kara easily touches on. She scoops it up and to her left, kicks it towards the penalty box where she sees a better space to move and aim. 

Her left foot arches back for her second goal, her eyes training on the right corner that’s just out of reach from the opposing team’s keeper.

But the goal never comes. 

What comes is another foot from right behind Kara, an outstretched leg that Lena sees before Kara even does, and it has Lena launching off her seat to call Kara’s name—tell her to watch out. 

But Kara never even hears it.

The boot hits Kara square on her head, landing face first on the grass, deathly still and unmoving. There’s a trail of crimson oozing from her temple where the tip of a spike has clipped the skin, and Lena knows it’s shallow—Lena _knows_ , but knowing and _comprehending_ are two different things. And right now, Lena feels like she’s incapable of _anything_.

It’s a bad tackle. It’s a bad tackle bordering illegal, and the sight of it spreads nothing but cold dread on Lena’s chest.

…

  
  


Lena watches in absolute horror as Alex runs straight from across the field, kneeling by Kara’s side. Her hands hover above Kara’s still form, yet, she ends up locking her fingers above her own head, completely distraught.

There’s yelling from the rest of their teammates—a scuffle in the making as Vasquez rushes to berate the much taller player in all her full height—that both Lena and Alex barely catch, despite the blanket of silence descending down on the entire stadium after the collective gasp. 

Even Sam’s voice barely registers as she makes her way to Lena’s side, after Lena has jumped off of her seat and headed towards the railings for a closer look, Lena’s gaze never leaving Kara.

She wraps a comforting arm around Lena’s shoulder, and together, they watch as the medical team makes their way inside the pitch carrying a stretcher to gently place Kara on.

(At the corner of Lena’s eye, she sees the ref pull a red card out on the offending player, and a part of Lena feels like booting her right out of the game and having to miss the next few _aren’t_ enough. 

Though Lena knows that it’s just the fear speaking, and not her actively wishing harm on another human being.)

Kara is lifted out of the pitch and straight to the ambulance then. Alex almost rips the captain’s armband off to follow her sister, but _duty_ makes her stay, and maybe a dash of revenge. A burning need to decimate their opponent and make sure Kara wakes up to another win.

So she just beckons another one of the remaining medics before the referee can signal the game back. Lena watches them exchange a few words, Alex pointing at her direction to which the medic follows. The medic nods at Alex’s strict instructions, heading off inside the tunnel once the whistle blows.

…

  
  


It’s a mild concussion. Kara’s awake by the time Lena and the medic get to the hospital and she’s escorted straight to Kara’s room, still in her soccer kit and matching cleats and—it’s a _mild concussion_.

But there’s still the cold dread on Lena’s chest that hasn’t gone away, even with the exhausted smile Kara greets her with as she perches herself on the edge of Kara’s hospital bed.

The bandage wrapped around Kara’s head doesn’t ease the heavy feeling at all. If anything, it sinks her heart down to the pit of her stomach, and her skin prickles like she’s jumped on ice cold water.

Her throat feels rough, and tight, and like her heart is still racing the same way it had the moment Kara fell down and stayed still.

“Hi, babe,” Kara rasps, clearly exhausted. “I missed your face.”

“Just my face?” Lena quips. Though it slips out shaky, and the tremble in her tone is palpable.

“I’d say more but I don’t think I’m up for that yet,” Kara replies; goes for a wink but she ends up just blinking at Lena. “Maybe later.”

And Lena would laugh, she really would, but the _image_ from not too long ago is still so vivid in her head she feels like crying instead.

So she just inches closer, taking Kara’s hand caked with sweat and grime and a bit of grass, pressing a tender kiss on the back of it before letting it settle on her chest as she cups Kara’s cheek. “You really had me worried for a second there, darling.”

Kara leans into the touch, sighing some of the craziness of the day out. She purses her lips to press a kiss on the soft heel, then, murmurs, “I’m sorry.”

Lena squeezes against Kara’s jaw. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know, I know,” Kara acquiesces. “But if we don’t win, I’m gonna be so bummed.”

It breaks Lena into a laugh this time, feels the _coldness_ ease a little at Kara’s answering chuckle.

“And I’m gonna be insufferable, stuffing my face with lots of donuts, and _ooh_ , M&M’s! Can we get M&M’s when we go home?”

“You’re allowed to be bummed and insufferable even if you do win,” Lena says. “And yes, we can get whatever you want.”

“And you’ll take care of me, right?”

Lena simply leans forward, pecks Kara’s lips and takes her breath when she pulls away and says, “Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this still counts as cold, right? HAHA
> 
> i'd really love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	25. you stop the world for a long night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the kudos and the comments everyone <3

It’s still twenty minutes before midnight when the noises start. Lena’s jostled awake by the booming sound that reaches her penthouse just as Kara bolts out of the bed, sliding into her suit before Lena can even make sense of _anything_.

The dark sky is littered with orange when she looks up. It would be a happenstance she’d ignore completely—because National City isn’t a stranger to random nights of fireworks displays—but it’s an unusual color. One that turns into a darker shade real quick, almost as if the sky itself is getting hotter, and the clouds are suddenly being buried underneath thick fogs of smoke that rise up from the skyline.

Lena rushes down her balcony as another series of explosions follow—definitely _not_ fireworks—with Kara right behind her heels and ready to leap from the edge at Alex’s orders.

Kara’s barking on her earpiece, and from what Lena can glean from the conversation, it’s a series of coordinated attacks carried out by the Children of Liberty. Lena knows that Agent Liberty and Otis are out there somewhere in the midst, perhaps front and center of everything, and a crippling fear suddenly grips Lena’s chest.

Kara has faced worse before. Lena has had worse odds stacked against her before. But they both have something to lose now, and Lena thinks she can’t afford to take any chances without being sure of the outcome.

So she tells Kara before Alex is able to summon her back to the DEO. “I’m going to the lab.”

The other woman halts mid-phrase, staring at Lena like she’s suddenly grown another head. She’s gone so quiet that Lena is able to hear Alex’s voice from her earpiece, Alex’s _Kara, Kara, are you still there_ muffled yet distinct. Until Kara finally speaks. “Why?”

Alex’s reply comes as a gruff _what do you mean why_ , a stark contrast from the clarity in Lena’s tone. “Because I can help. The anti-serum’s about to be ready, and the final touches to your new anti-kryptonite suit are done. But it needs a full charge, and we don’t have time for that.”

Kara turns silent once more in the next few beats, her jagged breaths loud and coming out in sharp puffs. Lena knows that Kara’s fighting against every instinct telling her to lock Lena up in the safest place she can think of, wrap her in a bubble and never let her go. 

(It’s one of the sore spots in their relationship, a work in-progress that they’re both trying to find a balance of.)

But ultimately, Kara relents, because Lena’s right. Because Kara trusts Lena. Because Kara trusts Lena enough to know that she’s right. They’ve always been better working as a team, even if it pitches Kara’s heart into her throat every single time.

So Kara pulls Lena against her, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead that she hopes will stick until everything is over. Then, a whisper. “I’m sorry this is happening on your birthday, of all days.”

Lena just returns the embrace, tucks her face in the crook of Kara’s neck for what Lena honestly feels like will be her only moment of solace from here, sighing, “We wouldn’t be us if it isn’t.”

“I know,” Kara concedes with a lopsided smile. “Happy birthday, _i:zhao_.”

…

  
  


It takes her half the day to recreate the anti-serum, duplicating it into five more vials after Alex calls to tell her that Agent Liberty has escaped relatively unscathed, and that the first serum is lying on a pool of spilled petrol and debris due to a _misfire_ on the DEO’s part.

The other half she spends on tweaking Kara’s anti-kryptonite suit, after an exhausted Kara has stumbled into her lab and straight to the bed surrounded by the enhanced sunlamps Lena keeps there. With a gash on her forehead _that shouldn’t be_ , bone-weary and heaving from some form of exposure.

The guilt pierces in her chest, _even when_ Kara tells her that it was a cheap shot that Otis fired while Kara was speeding to catch a sedan that had catapulted after a blast.

Maybe, _especially then_.

…

  
  


They get ten minutes of reprieve—though it feels less; feels like Lena has just started to hold Kara’s hand in hers and Kara has just smiled at her in gratitude and affection before closing her eyes to take in the sunlight—when Lena’s DEO comms rings, and Brainy’s disembodied voice filters in the room.

A tiny hologram appears above the flat surface of the device, Brainy’s form standing awkwardly and looking hesitant to interrupt the moment. But they can hear J’onn’s voice too from somewhere in the background, checking in even though the line has just connected. 

It forces Brainy to speak, swallowing thickly and visible enough to be seen despite the small projection. “I’m sorry to disturb you Lena. But Director J’onzz has asked me to require your help in examining the kryptonite material we’ve procured from Otis Graves.”

Lena nods, though it’s stiff. She smiles tightly at Brainy, says, “Of course. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

And only lets out the breath she’s heaved and held inside her chest when the comms disconnects and Brainy’s hologram fades. She turns to Kara then, her attention caught by the shuffling sound Kara makes when she shifts on the bed and sits upright.

The cut on her forehead has healed itself. But the spot is still caked in blood— _Kara’s_ blood, and it makes Lena pull Kara into her arms, pressing Kara’s ear to where her heart thrums beneath because she knows the steady beat calms Kara.

“I have to go to the DEO,” she says, her words echoing inside her chest.

“Yeah, I heard,” Kara mumbles. “Give me one sec and I’ll fly you there.”

She makes to get up, but Lena’s quick to push her back down. And the way Kara’s knees _give out_ as she falls right back has Lena swallowing the bitter bile rising at the back of her throat.

“You need more time in the sunlamps,” Lena says. It’s stern and gives Kara no room to argue. But the unsettled way she feels inside doesn’t exactly inspire the tone she’s been meaning to. “I’ll be back soon.”

She leaves Kara with a solid kiss, though Lena thinks it’s more for herself than anything; the warmth of Kara’s lips and the puffs of her breath a reminder that Lena didn’t lose her.

Lena’s never been one for celebrating birthdays, has never been one to blow candles and make wishes. But today she makes an exception, if it means being one more way she can keep Kara safe.

…

  
  


It’s twenty minutes past midnight when Lena hears the noise. It’s a familiar _thud_ that jostles Lena completely awake from her half-asleep state, rising from her perch on the couch as the balcony doors slide open to let Kara slip in.

She still looks a little weary and her motions are more sluggish than usual. But she looks a little less pale than when she first landed on Lena’s lab, and Lena has to take that particular victory for hers and Kara’s sake.

Lena welcomes her home with a slow kiss, even though her fingers curl around Kara’s neck like they’re aching for more. Then, she takes Kara by the hand, tugging at her arm as she leads them back into the bedroom.

She helps Kara out of her suit, lets the cape drop on the floor as if they’re shedding the hefty weight the day has placed on their shoulders; sheds every other piece of clothing that embodies Supergirl, until it’s just _Kara_ who’s standing right in front of Lena.

The rest, they’ll take care of tomorrow. They always do.

…

  
  


“Wait, Lena.”

Lena spins around. She throws Kara a confused look when it dawns on her that she hasn’t moved from her spot, and isn’t following her to bed like Lena has been thinking.

(And Lena’s mind goes to the _worst_ —another work in-progress that Lena’s figuring out how to curb.) 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Kara quickly assures, sensing the burgeoning panic that changes the staccato of Lena’s heartbeat. “I just, I wanna give you something.”

She reaches behind and pulls at the second drawer in their nightstand, fishing out a flat square box wrapped in glossy red paper with a tiny golden ribbon on top. It’s where Kara keeps some of her more personal things, making for a good hiding place because Kara _knows_ that Lena will never dare look through without Kara’s consent.

She offers it to Lena, and then takes Lena’s hand to put it on her palm when Lena doesn’t move, completely frozen in stunned surprise.

“But, darling,” Lena tries to say, scraping for a single thought amidst the sudden labyrinth that is her brain. “It’s no longer my birthday.”

“Does it have to be?”

“As birthday gifts are mostly given during the occasion—”

Kara just chuckles then, breaking Lena off. She cups Lena’s jaw, pulling her in for a playful kiss that turns deep the next second, when Lena sighs against her lips and Kara _tastes_ Lena on her tongue. It almost makes her forget, _almost_ , because birthday gifts are just as important.

“You and your technicalities,” Kara quips, petering them off into chaste pecks. “You’d be a darn good lawyer. But—”

“But?” Lena prompts, stares at Kara expectantly.

“I’m persistent,” Kara states. Then, she twists around, snatching the clock resting on their nightstand and starts winding it back until there are ten minutes before midnight. She sets it down once more, lets a finger push it to a better position where Lena can see the time _clearly_ ; rights herself so she can grin at Lena like she’s just outsmarted her.

It’s Lena who breaks into the lightest laugh this time, shaking her head as she sends Kara her most earnest gaze. A mixture of warmth and affection shines in her eyes, covering them in a luster that Kara will never get tired of seeing.

“I guess it’s still my birthday, then.”

…

  
  


It’s a bracelet.

Yet, it’s _not_ just a bracelet. It’s the most intricate piece of jewelry that Lena has ever seen in her life.

Lena has seen technology from planets light years away from Earth, has built machineries and mechanisms with blue prints that look like they came from another universe, has programmed an AI to break down every piece of information about a dead planet, if only to keep it alive in a tiny hologram box that Kara can carry with her anywhere.

But Lena has never seen anything quite like _it_.

It’s silver and has three layers of bands with varying lengths, each band locking with its other end in different points. There are symbols etched all over, words that Lena will have to ask Kara for the meanings of later on, because Lena needs to know what _it_ means for them, first.

“It’s not—it doesn’t have to mean now,” Kara says, as if she’s read Lena’s mind.

“What then?” Lena asks. “If not now?”

Kara lifts a hand, caressing Lena’s cheek; feels her own heart jump when she sees Lena’s eyes flutter as she leans into her touch.

Then, a whisper. “A _someday_. When we both think it’s time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can also be alternatively known as SOFT HOURS [OPEN]
> 
> i'd really love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	26. the art of boxes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based from the prompt: "i did that annoying thing where i put loads of smaller boxes inside one big box and you’re getting really mad but you don’t know that the ring is in the smallest box and i can’t wait to see your face" but with a supercorp spin

In the middle of their living room lies a box that Lena’s never seen before. It’s tall and a little slim, coming up to Lena’s hip, wrapped in gold glossy paper and tied with a golden ribbon to boot. It’s the complete opposite of _unostentatious_ , like it wants nothing but Lena’s attention and hers alone.

Everything else inside their apartment is exactly the same. Save for the lack of a blonde presence that Lena instantly becomes suspicious about. So she sets her bag down on the nearby island, toes off her shoes and scoops them out of the way, just in case Kara decides to suddenly pop up out of nowhere.

She takes quick, lithe steps towards the box, approaching it with far less caution than she probably should employ. It’s still an _unmarked_ package that’s sitting right inside their home, all things considered, and with Lex and Leviathan still on the loose, Lena can never be too sure.

But Lena’s also undoubtedly curious, her hands flexing with _need_ to tear the wrapping paper off and see what’s inside; ultimately gets the better of her, and has Lena plucking the tiny card she finds stuck on top.

It’s in Kara’s loopy scribble, bearing one word Lena’s heard more often than not.

 _Pride_.

The card pulls a perplexed frown that creases her face. But she pushes through—she _always_ does—tugging at the ribbon and ripping the glossy paper off, yet finds _nothing_ absolutely special about it.

It’s a plain cardboard box, brown and thick and crisp, smelling brand new.

Lena sighs, because _of course_ , Kara’s not going to make it easy for her. 

(It’s something she loves about Kara, and the way she challenges Lena in each important turn, and _hates_ about her, and the way she challenges Lena in each important turn that Lena refuses to budge on.) 

She tucks the card inside her chest pocket, freeing her hands so she can lift the box’s flaps up. It _does_ have something inside, which Lena has to fish out in order for her to examine it further.

But it’s just another box, a few inches shorter than the first one. And this time, it’s wrapped in silver, with a silver tinsel bow to match.

Lena lets out a soft laugh at that, finds herself endeared with whatever Kara is up to even though she’s shaking her head.

Its card says _Anger_ that Lena then keeps with _Pride_ , tearing the silver paper off and not even the slightest bit surprised when it’s just another nondescript cardboard box that’s behind it, and another box inside that’s also shorter than the one Lena’s fished it out from.

The third is in purple, with a gold-lined purple ribbon that ties it together. It’s named _Fear_ , and it’s starting to make sense what these boxes are and _what_ each card stands for.

Her hands tug at the fourth’s matted green paper a little harder as her eyes trace the word on the card and _Abandonment_ stares at her right back. They tremble at the fifth, wild and violent and heartfelt like the red it’s covered with; like a punch in her gut that leaves a phantom kind of pain in its wake.

 _Self-love_.

At the sixth, Lena feels a tautness that constricts her throat, pricking heat at the back of her eyes. It blurs the patterns on the dark blue gift wrap, and her vision of Kara when Kara ambles in slow, careful steps, her smile soft and warm as she meets Lena’s gaze.

“Kara,” Lena whispers, nearly crumpling _Hope_ in her hand. By now, the box is significantly smaller than the first ever one Lena has opened, light and short enough that she can carry it on the flat of her palm. “Kara, what’s going on?”

Kara’s smile doesn’t drop as she tells Lena, “Keep going, babe.” If anything, it turns impossibly softer, nowhere near mocking or teasing, even if Lena’s quite sure that whatever it is has something to do with all of _her boxes_.

So Lena says, in between a breath she heaves and the sniffle that follows, “It’s just box after box after box.”

“I know,” Kara affirms. She purses her hands inside the front pocket of Lena’s MIT hoodie, cocks her head and throws Lena a fond look. “But you love metaphors, right?”

“Darling, that’s you,” Lena deflects playfully, despite the tightness still seizing her throat. “And if this is a giant metaphor for my boxes, I feel like I should be offended. Should I be?”

Kara scoffs, like she’s now the one offended at the implication. “Of course not.”

“But these boxes—”

“Lena,” she’s quick to cut her off, with another soft smile that tells Lena she means her very next words. “I love you. And I will never do anything to hurt you on purpose. Just keep going, baby.”

Lena lets out another sniffle, swallowing thickly. “Like Dory?”

“That’s _just keep swimming_ ,” Kara tells her as a light chuckle escapes her chest. “We really need to work on your Disney.”

…

  
  


The seventh bears _Happiness_ , in royal blue that somehow feels quite befitting. Lena briefly wonders how many more are there, until she realizes she’s actually looking forward to the next ones Kara has in store.

 _Promise_ prefaces the eight, in a gradient that reminds Lena of the sky at the very first signs of light on sunrise. Yet it’s the ninth that pitches the knot back in Lena’s throat when she opens the next— _feels_ like it’s as big as the glittery white box that Lena now holds, small and square and _solid_ like the word Kara has decided to name it.

 _Love_.

Lena’s hands shake for a wholly different reason, and there’s a quiver in her knees that she knows _isn’t_ weakness. But it’s _there_ , like the next breath she takes, and as real and as palpable as the box that’s still on her palm.

“Is this—” Lena starts to say, looking up at Kara as if she’s waiting for some sort of light that Kara needs to shed. “This is the last one, right?”

“Why don’t you open the box and find out?”

So Lena does, with a breath she holds in that rattles her chest, and one that escapes in a breathy _Kara_ she gasps out when she lifts the lid and finds a dark blue velvet box inside.

Kara’s named it _Forever_ , and Lena thinks _yes_. 

Kara doesn’t even have to ask.

…

  
  


But Kara _does_. And it’s part of the reason why Lena loves her so.

She takes the ring box from Lena’s trembling hands, the pad of her thumb catching the first drop that cascades down Lena’s cheek. It feels symbolic somehow, feels like a vow that Kara is making—has been making over and over, especially in those times when Lena needs the reminder most.

(Lena can’t help but think this day is one of _them_.)

Kara plucks the ring from its perch, a round diamond that sits in the middle of a twisting band that _spells_ infinity. She holds it up in between them, high enough that Lena can see it in its full glory, and low enough that it doesn’t obscure Lena’s face as Kara clears her throat to speak.

“I uhm—I had a speech prepared, I promise,” she starts. “But you look so beautiful surrounded by all your boxes that I—that I—I think I forgot what I was going to say.”

Lena’s eyes begin to flutter, her lashes growing heavy from the tears she can’t quite hold back now. Yet she’s smiling at Kara too, wide and fond and _earnest_.

“I think page four has something about the boxes,” Kara continues. “And that—and that I never thought about them as flaws. It’s good to have boxes. Page six is where I tell you that—that I’d never take away those boxes from you, because they’re a part of you.”

Kara heaves another deep breath, her chest rising just as Lena’s does when she feels her own breath hitch.

Then, Kara says, “Page nine is where I say that I love you, and that I don’t think I’ll love anyone as much as you. And—and that I’ll learn the art of your boxes, like you’ve learned about every piece and part of me. Even the ones everyone else thought they’d never understand.”

“Kara,” Lena breathes out. Her lips quiver from the weight of her emotions, but it tugs up to a watery smile in the end, and it’s all because of the woman standing in front of her.

“But that is—that is—” Kara presses on. “Only if you’ll let me.”

“Yes,” Lena says. She doesn’t waste a second longer, rushing towards Kara’s space and holding Kara like she’ll never let her go. And it’s a vow that she makes—is making over and over too, when she says, “Yes, it will always be yes.”

…

  
  


Later, when Lena’s stacked all of _her_ boxes at a corner inside their bedroom—like a perpetual reminder of this day that she’ll fondly look back on for the rest of their lives—and they’re spending the rest of the night bare under the sheets, she asks Kara, “You started at page four. What were on the first three pages, then?”

Kara giggles. “I really forgot! But I think it was a three-page ode to how perfect your jaw is.”

“Just three pages?” Lena replies, arching a playful brow. “Here I was thinking it’d be at least five.”

“I mean, I did also have to like, talk about how much I love your eyes,” Kara answers, teasing. “And your boobs, _golly_.”

A loud laugh resounds from Lena’s chest and reverberates in their bedroom, one that Kara echoes until it peters off into the softest kiss.

…

  
  


Later, way, _way_ later, Kara will give Lena another box, brand new and in baby blue. And they will both name it. 

_Family_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we've already established that i'm very bad at following prompts. we might as well stay on brand lmao
> 
> i'd really love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	27. jumping in harder than ten thousand rocks on the lake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the kudos and the comments!!!

Her best friend is mid-rant when it happens.

But in Kara’s defense, it’s a complete surprise on her part too. Lena just looked so _ethereal_ behind her desk while telling Kara the story of this morning’s particular lab blunder, and she’s talking with her hands like Kara often does, and she’s already laughing before she even gets to the funniest part.

And for all the strength that the galaxy and its yellow sun has bestowed upon her, Kara _can’t_ quite find a single modicum at _that_ moment. Not when Lena reaches to wipe the sauce that Kara’s managed to slobber on her face at her last bite, and Lena just laughs in turn, tells Kara it’s cute— _you’re cute_ if Kara is to be precise.

So when Lena pulls her hand back and drops her weight against the tall rest of her executive chair, arching an impish brow at Kara that Kara just stares dumbly at—like she’s asking Kara _what_ without _actually_ asking her—Kara does the only thing she can think of.

She kisses Lena Luthor.

…

  
  


She kisses Lena soft at first, completely unmoving and with her own breath held inside her lungs.

Kisses her with her eyes fluttering close, and yet like she’s giving Lena every chance to push Kara away. _Kisses_ her like the rational part of her that values consent in the highest regard is flashing all the red lights and raising all the red flags, telling her that if she earns a slap after _this_ , she knows she’d have deserved it.

(And that she’d be lucky if that would be the only thing she gets, too. Not billion dollar lawsuits and a restraining order.)

The hitch in Lena’s breath has her almost pulling away, faint yet deafening to Kara’s ears. But she feels Lena’s lips press against hers before she gets the chance to, Lena’s mouth moving in perfect sync with hers.

Kara loses sight of all the red lights and all the red flags then, and all she sees is the hue of Lena’s eyes behind her own, and all she feels is Lena’s warmth, and all she smells is the mint on Lena’s breath that mixes with her perfume. And all she tastes is _Lena_.

But her brain kicks back up, finally able to make sense of _everything_ , and _it_ slams a proverbial red button that Kara’s mind has aptly labeled _panic_.

She’s kissing Lena. She’s kissing Lena, her best friend. She’s kissing Lena, her best friend, and her best friend, Lena is kissing her back.

Her brain screeches into a complete halt, her entire body freezing in turn. It’s Lena who pulls back when she notices the lack of movement on Kara’s part, Lena who cups a soft, warm palm on Kara’s flushed cheek as she asks, “Kara? Is everything alright?”

There is wonder in Lena’s tone, mixed with surprise, and elation, and the strongest hint of worry that Kara picks up on from the racing staccato of Lena’s heartbeat. But it’s the tender touch that _snaps_ something inside of Kara.

Or maybe it’s just Lena’s desk, slivers of white plaster and light brown wood covering her entire hand as Kara clutches a huge chunk in an almost death grip, zipping away from Lena’s office and never once looking back.

…

  
  


She lands straight at the DEO, her boots making impressions on the balcony floor that may be permanent this time, and scaring the hell out of her sister that Alex nearly whips a bazooka to her face.

Not that it’s ever really going to do _anything_ , much less make Kara forget the last twenty minutes.

(Except the kissing part. Kara thinks it could be eighty four years from now and she’d have lapses in her memory, but she’d still remember it so vividly.)

“Kara, what the hell!” Alex chides. She _whips out_ a scowl instead, glaring at Kara. But it falls on an unreadable face—which is already highly unusual, Alex notes—and the wild look of worry in Kara’s eyes.

Alex’s inkling only grows when Kara barely slips an apology out in her rush to ask, “Can I talk to you, please?”

“About what? That thing you got in your—” Alex says, makes a show of glancing at the block of chipped wood still in Kara’s hand. Her own eyes pop wide when her mind discerns what it is exactly. “Is that from a desk?!”

“I broke Lena’s five-thousand-dollar desk,” Kara blurts out.

“Five thousand?!” Alex yells right back, gazing out and far away like she’s looking right at Lena inside her office and judging her for such choices. “Who the hell buys a desk that expensive?!”

Apparently, Kara’s best friend does. But that’s _not_ the problem. That isn’t the problem at all, so Kara blurts out _again_ , before her throat closes up on her entirely. “I kissed Lena.”

Alex’s gaze darts towards her, at a speed that must’ve given her sister some kind of whiplash. But Alex remains steadfast, fists propped on her hips as she gawks Kara. “You did what?!”

“I know,” Kara mumbles weakly. She can’t believe it either.

…

  
  


“So let me get this straight,” Alex starts later on, when she’s pulled Kara towards one of the more secure rooms they often use for top secret debriefs, and she’s effectively shooed every agent within the ten-meter radius away.

“You kissed Lena,” Alex continues, raising a finger up to count and point each and every life choice Kara has made the past forty minutes. “You broke Lena’s desk because you kissed her, and then you ran away?”

Kara groans, sprawling over the table to try and hide her face. But Alex refuses her to, holds her by the crown of her head so she just blows out a huge breath, swirling specks of the _desk_ she’s absentmindedly brought with her in her haste to leave up in the air.

(How fitting for her current state of mind, really.)

“What do I do?” Kara says. She gently shakes Alex’s grip on her and props her chin against the smooth table, looking at her sister.

“Well, has she tried calling you yet? Did she tell you anything after you left?”

Another groan escapes Kara’s throat, longer and sounding much more embarrassed. “I turned my phone off.”

Alex tuts in clear disapproval. “Why?!”

“I panicked!” Kara defends. “I’m still panicking right now, Alex!”

“Okay, okay,” Alex mollifies; holds both her hands up palms out, gesturing at her sister to keep her calm. “I mean, we won’t know until you turn it back on, Kara.”

“But I don’t wanna,” Kara whines, burying her face on the table once more.

“I know. But you might have to.”

Kara stomps her foot once as a final act of defiance, but ultimately, she fishes out her phone from the boot she keeps it in. Though, she hands it to Alex and lets her take care of it, too afraid to hear even a single thought of what Lena is currently thinking.

Alex powers it on, and Kara traps in a breath, some sort of early penance before she inevitably finds out the ten thousand ways she’s ruined the most important relationship in her life outside of her adoptive mom and her adoptive sister. 

It _dings_ and it _dings_ and it _dings_ , that for a moment, Kara thinks it’s never going to end. Alex just waits patiently for all the messages to come in—the exact opposite of how Kara’s feeling, like she wants to uproot her entire life in National City and move to somewhere in the Himalayas where Lena will never see her _kisses-her-best-friend-out-of-nowhere_ face—until it stops in two quick successions.

It’s only then that Alex dives in on Kara’s message thread with Lena. Her heart is in her throat, but Alex’s face is completely unreadable, so it just stays there, constricting airways and has Kara gasping for breaths at a speed that her Kryptonian biology doesn’t even require.

Then, after what feels like the longest three minutes of Kara’s life, Alex hums, sucking in her own breath before scrunching her nose at Kara. “Well, I don’t think it’s _that_ bad?”

“But it’s bad?” Kara quizzes promptly. “It’s bad, right?”

“No, no,” Alex replies. “It’s—it’s expected?”

“What does that even mean?!”

“It means,” Alex then says, holds the device out for Kara to take and see for herself. “That she had the usual reaction to something that took her by surprise, and said surprise just up and left.”

Kara can only glare at Alex for the ambiguity of it all. Though she does snatch her phone back from Alex’s grip, staring at the opened thread but not really _comprehending_. “Rao,” she exhales, her eyes starting to flutter as the letters quickly turn into a huge watery blur. “I don’t want to lose my best friend, Alex.”

“You won’t,” Alex tells her, with conviction in her tone that Kara wishes she has, too. She smiles encouragingly at her sister, tapping on Kara’s phone once for a final push. “Just read them. And if you feel that you’re ready to respond, then do it. But if you don’t feel ready yet, that’s okay too.”

“Okay.” 

“But, Kara?” Alex says, almost like an afterthought. “Don’t let her wait too long. Especially if _it_ did mean—does mean something.” 

Kara swallows thickly then, nods; and with another lungful of air, she starts reading the messages from the first one to the last.

A _myriad_ of emotions is what they are, to simply put. And Kara honestly feels like Lena has cycled through the _Five Stages of Emotions when your best friend kisses you and they run away_ in the time between Kara bolting out of her office to now.

It’s _Kara, it doesn’t have to mean anything_ , to _You kissed me first! This isn’t fair!_ , to _Kara, please. Please come back so we can talk about this_ , to _I can’t lose you_ , to _I’ve been trying to call you but your phone seems to be off. I guess it’s answer enough_.

It’s the last one that eats away at her, pushing a hefty weight in her chest that Kara hasn’t felt since she’d lied to Lena about being Supergirl and it blew up spectacularly on her face. She’d almost lost her best friend then, too.

So she types, _Can we talk tonight? I’m so sorry. I can explain, I promise. I can’t lose you too_.

Alex’s smile at her this time is soft and filled with pride. Then, she tells Kara, “The rest of my afternoon is free. You wanna hang out for a bit?”

“Can we?” Kara replies with a hopeful look on her face. Though her smile is lopsided, anchored by the weight that still hasn’t eased. “And can we get ice cream?”

“Ice cream sounds _amazing_ ,” Alex agrees. “Tell you what, it’ll be my treat. Since you’re gonna need five grand sometime soon.”

“Oh, _Rao_ ,” Kara laments. “I can’t believe I might potentially lose my best friend and my next two paychecks on the same day.”

“But you’ll still get ice cream,” Alex says to cheer up. “Plus an amazing sister.”

Kara smiles a little more brightly at that. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

…

  
  


When Kara walks in her door, the last thing she expects is to see her best friend perched stiffly on the couch, fiddling nervously with her fingers as she stares blankly at the far side of Kara’s wall.

But it’s the first thing that she _does_ see. And the urge to bolt out again grips her so strong she nearly flies off her own balcony. But Alex is bumping into her at her sudden stop, and Alex is greeting Lena as she kicks Kara’s door closed. By then, it’s too late for any exit strategies, and anything else she does to slip away will just further ruin their friendship that’s already precariously hanging in the balance.

“I know you two have a lot to talk about,” Alex then says, pushing at Kara until Kara relents—until Kara gets her feet moving towards Lena and _not_ away. “So I’m gonna go.”

Alex plucks the bigger ice cream tub and throws it inside Kara’s fridge in haste, and then grabs the smaller pint to take home with her. Though, before she steps out of Kara’s apartment, she tells Lena with a playful admonishing look. “But before I go. Lady, we gotta talk about desks, because _seriously_?! Five grand?!”

“Eight,” Lena corrects. “Eight thousand, and I got it on sale.”

Kara blanches at that, while Alex just scoffs, rolling her eyes at the very _casual_ lavishness of it all. “I’m leaving. My _bourgeois_ status can’t take this.”

And to Kara, she _murmurs_ , knowing Kara can hear it. “You got this. It’s gonna be okay.”

…

  
  


She’s on mid-ramble when it happens again.

And in Kara’s defense, she never saw it coming. She’s in near tears as she tells Lena that she’s truly, _genuinely_ sorry that she kissed her out of nowhere and without her utmost consent.

Halfway through a choked sob when she tells Lena that she doesn’t want— _never_ would want to lose her, but that she’d completely understand if Lena would ask for space.

 _Borders_ into another one as she tearfully confesses to her best friend, “I think I’ve been in love with you for the longest time. I just didn’t know until now.”

But for the lack of strength that had crippled her earlier, Kara manages to find more than enough at _that_ moment, reaching to wipe Lena’s own tears cascading down her face.

Lena just lets out a watery laugh in turn, relief and certainty and everything else she’s balled up inside until she’d heard Kara say _those_ words exhaled in jagged breaths.

Then, she tells Kara she loves her too— _I love you too_ if Kara is to be precise.

So when Kara pulls her hand back and drops the other’s weight on the curve of her couch, and Lena’s eyes flutter in her direction, Kara can only stare at her dumbstruck and completely in love. 

Until Lena inches closer and noses her way towards Kara’s, nudging at Kara’s own tentatively and pressing her lips against Kara’s, sure and solid. Kara’s surprised at first, but it doesn’t last. Not when her heart thrums beneath her chest and her hands move on their own, arms circling around Lena’s waist and meeting behind the small of her back.

Not when Kara feels like the same way she felt when the yellow sun first kissed her skin, and the first time soft grass brushed against her bare feet; feels the same way she felt when it drizzled and it rained, and it made Kara think of new beginnings.

 _Makes_ Kara think now, of feeling _grounded_ , like she’s moored right where she should be. And Kara silently vows to never stray away from her anchor ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i was much better at following the prompt this time HAHA
> 
> i'd really love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	28. wish we would’ve met on another night (i wouldn’t have let you leave me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the kudos and the comments you guys left! and for being lovely and very, very welcoming people, really <3

Kara finds _Bibliothèque_ quite by accident. 

Nestled at a corner in Rue Galande, she makes the wrong turn while trying to follow the directions on her phone map—at _5th_ instead of _7th_ —and instead of a winding path that’s meant to lead her to the next street where her hotel is, she’s greeted by a modest bookstore that looks quite out of place.

Sandwiched between a fancy clothing store and a perfume shop, _Bibliothèque_ is the dainty, antiquated reminder of the street’s days of old. Like Kara has stepped inside a particular moment in history, a hundred years back in time and where lanterns are the main sources of light. 

But it isn’t the atmosphere that invites Kara in. It’s the smell of fresh baked croissants and brewing coffee wafting from the store that does, as the door cracks open and one of the local regulars spills out with a paper cup full of steaming coffee in their hand.

The delicious scent proves a little too hard to resist, though Kara can’t really say she tried to fight it. She’s already been looking for ways to kill the time while Alex is still at her conference, and she may have just found the perfect place.

Inside the bookstore is quite a story of its own, a complete mix of _timeworn_ and yet modern, with the smell of old books lingering in the air, and the sounds of the coffee machine percolating accompanied by the _dings_ of the oven from the nearby kitchen.

Further inside are rows and rows of open shelves, the shorter ones flanking the aisles while the more taller cases line up against the wall. Kara glides in between two sturdy ones that house _Non-Fiction_ and _Science Fiction_ , running a hand on each visible spine in the latter section. 

She plucks _Dune_ out when she finds it, vaguely remembering the title slipping out of Winn’s mouth once. Or perhaps it’s a movie. Kara’s quite not sure, even more so when she reads the synopsis on the back cover.

She pulls _Ready Player One_ next—another that she’s heard Winn talk about, but maybe they really all are just films—skimming through the summary again before sliding it back.

She’s about to return _Dune_ to its place, ducking a little to fit the book without ruining its covers and any of the pages, when her eyes catch an unfamiliar pair of green ones over the next aisle, busily scanning one of the higher shelves that’s above Kara too.

A look of recognition shines in the woman’s eyes when she finds whichever title she’s particularly eyeing, one that soon morphs into determination before stretching her hand out, fingers struggling to reach the bottom edge of its spine.

Kara watches, ridiculously _entranced_ , as her fingers curl around the edge of one of the shelf planks for support, leaning on her toes for a quick boost that doesn’t really do anything.

But the woman is undoubtedly resolute in getting her copy, so she stretches up more, short of just propelling herself to reach her target, her torso pressing against the shelf and right in Kara’s view.

Kara feels the ensuing blush warm her cheeks, averting her gaze and fixing her eyes on the row of books above her. She forces her mind to mouth each title, but the _rest_ of her has other plans, glancing back at the woman and feeling torn about wanting to offer help and minding her own business.

Yet, _something_ else makes the decision for her. (And later, much, much later, Kara will call it _fate_.)

She hears the squeak of shoes against concrete, the telltale sound that prefaces a rough fall, and Kara knows the woman will suffer such an outcome if she doesn’t move.

So she does. In the middle of a foreign place where no one knows Kara Danvers but everyone knows Supergirl, Kara super speeds to round the next aisle, catching the woman in her arms to break her fall.

She lands right into Kara’s hold, a lighter weight that Kara really barely feels. Her wide-eyed gaze at Kara feels far _heavier_ , as heavy as the embarrassed hue that matches the flush still dotting Kara’s cheeks.

Though, Kara’s still able to remember the existence of words, and for that she’s incredibly grateful. “A-are you, okay?”

“Yes, thank you,” the woman replies.

The voice tugs on _something_ inside Kara, sending an inexplicable kind of warmth that has absolutely nothing to do with the smell of coffee and bread in the air. It shoots from her fingers down to her spine, settling her racing heart completely.

But Kara just accepts the gratitude with a slow nod, smiling kindly at the woman as she helps her right herself up. Then, she drops her hands that were once holding her weight into her sides, clasps them behind her back like a suddenly shy child.

They’re quiet for the next few beats, with Kara’s gaze darting all over the entire place as the woman fiddles with the cuff of her cream cashmere sweater. Though Kara manages to scrounge up some semblance of bravado at the last minute, when the woman sends her another grateful smile and a quick _thanks again_ , making to leave, Kara’s mouth opening up to ask. “Do you uhm—”

The woman twists around, staring at Kara expectantly. “Yes?”

So she pushes through, despite the hesitation and the uncertainty of unknowingly setting herself up to a whole new kind of embarrassment. “Do you need some help with your book? I can try and get it for you.”

The other woman beamed at her, a dimple curving at the corner of her lips even with the shy nod she answers Kara with. She gets a look in her eyes as Kara asks that Kara can’t quite place; perhaps fondness, though she knows it’s impossible because they’ve never met.

She tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear—that has Kara’s breath hitching—her bottom lip caught in between her teeth before she lets it go to say, “I’d like that. But—”

“But?” Kara prompts.

“Only if you let me buy you coffee after,” she says. “And if you try their croissant with me. I’ve heard nothing but good things about it.”

Kara grins at her then, her heart turning over beneath her chest at the answering smile the woman gives her. “You already got me at coffee, but I’d never say no to croissants.”

…

  
  


Her name is Lena, Kara finds out a little while later, in the middle of Lena’s second cup and Kara’s third piece of pastry. 

She’s in Paris for a quick impromptu get away before her entire life is upended in the next three weeks—Lena’s words, not hers—roaming around parts of the city that she’s never been to before.

“That makes two of us,” Kara says, chuckling. Though a part of her is tempted to ask about what Lena means then. Yet, they’re practically strangers and mere acquaintances at best. Kara knows she has no right to. So instead she says, “I actually got here by complete accident because I took the wrong turn.”

Lena tilts her head, looking at Kara like she’s trying to read her. 

(Maybe she is.) 

Something flickers in Lena’s eyes, a gleam that feels like some sort of connection—a tether to this moment that Kara can’t quite explain. Even more when Lena says, “But what if it’s not an accident?”

Kara frowns lightly in answer. “What do you mean?”

“What if it’s like quantum entanglement?”

“And what’s that?”

Lena flashes a smile at her, wide but shy around the edges. She props both of her arms on the round table, inching closer towards Kara as she explains, “It’s this concept in quantum physics, about how two particles can still be linked to each other even if they’re separated by a large distance or space.”

Kara, in turn, props an elbow too; lets her palm catch her chin. “And you think this is like that?”

Lena tucks her bottom lip beneath her teeth again, tugging until it’s raw and as red as the hue that starts coloring Kara’s cheeks once more. “Well, let’s put the theory to a test.”

Her smile turns softer, but still the kind that reaches her eyes, crinkling in the most beautiful ways that make Kara _ache_. “What if we both stick around and find out?”

…

  
  


It’s a question Kara leaves unanswered in Paris, when the day ends and they inevitably have to part ways. Kara walks the street that leads her back to her hotel, while Lena crosses to the other side, taking the route back to her apartment.

Kara doesn’t really know if it will ever get answered, too; wonders if she’ll ever get _that_ peace of mind as she watches Lena’s form disappear into the crowd, feeling like she’s willingly given a part of her that she doesn’t know if she’ll ever get back.

…

  
  


Three weeks after she returns from Paris, a new face surfaces in National City that Kara keeps hearing about. J’onn and Alex have already warned her about the _newest Luthor in town_ , a lecture that Clark repeats and has Kara rolling her eyes at.

But she’s currently stuck in an elevator with her cousin, unable to fly off without raising any kind of suspicion. Not that Kara would willingly break such a piece of expensive machinery inside a building full of security cameras.

“I’m serious, Kara,” Clark tells her for the umpteenth time. “You know what Lex did, what he was capable of.”

Kara feels herself bristle at that, an _unnamed_ , irrational feeling burning in her chest at the unfair treatment National City and its citizens has been welcoming _Lena Luthor_ with. It sends her snapping back at her cousin, her fingers curling hard around the handlebar she’s been holding on for support and nearly leaving dents. 

“You haven’t even heard what she has to say! But you’ve already decided on what and how you’re going to write. That’s not responsible journalism, Clark.”

It shuts Clark up effectively, and though they spend the rest of the ride towards Miss Luthor’s office in awkward silence, Kara thinks she prefers that more than another word spilling out of her cousin’s mouth.

…

  
  


At the top floor of L-Corp’s building on the sunniest day in National City, this is where Kara meets Lena again.

She’s hunched over her desk, scrolling at various reports and charts on her laptop when Kara sees her, freezing right on the spot that Clark almost hurls her forward as he bumps on her back. 

_That_ near-ruckus just earns them a faint _one second_ please as Lena continues to read on. And it’s enough of a time for Kara to start moving again, closer and closer and closer to Lena until she whispers, “Like quantum entanglement.”

Lena’s head snaps up, a stunned look spreading across her face when she finds Kara at the end of her gaze. Her chest heaves a deep breath, trapping the air that swirls in her lungs until the very next second where her chin quivers as she expels her breath out along with Kara’s name.

And then, Lena smiles, and Kara feels _something_ right itself in her world; like _finally_ , she’s found the answer she’s been looking for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd really love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	29. the moon is high; the wine is cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the kudos and comments! two more days to go...

It’s not that Lena’s forgotten all about dinner, it just _slipped_ Lena’s mind.

Between poring through ninety-nine blueprints and having to go over a dozen contract drafts, there wasn’t exactly any time for, well, _dinner_. Or anything other than coffee, really, and the sandwich Jess has gotten her for lunch.

That was eight hours ago.

Hence why it comes as a genuine surprise when Lena’s phone beeps and she finds a block of text from Sam in her notifications; happens to glance at her home screen the same time she looks it over and realizes it’s half past eight.

It’s dark out on her balcony’s view when she checks, but Lena just ignores the reminder that she has stayed late for work for another day in her already long series of _staying late at work_ days, tapping on Sam’s message instead.

 _I know you’re still at work because your life is sad,_ Lena reads; scoffs and rolls her eyes even though she’s completely by herself in her office. _But we’re going to fix that._

 _And how do you suppose we do that?_ She fires back. Though she makes sure to take her time in answering, her lips twitching at the imagery of a very impatient Sam very impatiently waiting for Lena’s reply.

Her fingers haven’t even eased their grip on her phone when it buzzes again, signalling Sam’s newest message. Lena taps on the notification once more until it brings their thread back up and Lena reads, _You’re going to have dinner with us_.

In turn, she snaps a picture of the pile of paperwork she still has left, forwarding it to her best friend along with her answer. _Thanks, but these papers won’t sign themselves_.

 _See I knew you were going to say that_ , comes Sam’s text back. _But Ruby and I found the perfect incentive_.

Lena arches a curious brow at that but she doesn’t reply. She simply waits for the next set of messages she _knows_ she’ll be getting any second now, and honestly debates just calling it a night because there is no stopping Sam when she’s put her mind on something.

That doesn’t mean she’s coming to dinner, though, when _calling it a night_ mostly means packing up and taking the rest of her work home.

Her phone is silent for the next few beats, which has Lena admittedly growing a little curious. Till it blares into life in loud consecutive rings that has her nearly jumping out of her skin as she’s reaching for one more document.

Sam’s face greets her when she picks up, with an impish smirk plastered all over that Lena can’t help but be instantly suspicious about. “Samantha,” she says in a complete deadpan. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

“You’ll be saying that differently in a little while,” Sam singsongs in lieu of a reply.

Lena hums, then, “I highly doubt. But, sure, go on.”

“Okay, so hear me out,” Sam answers, pointedly ignoring the skepticism in Lena’s tone. “There’s a very cute blonde who’s totally your type sitting two tables away from us. And she looks like she’s been stood up by her blind date.”

“I’m not sure how this qualifies as the _perfect_ _incentive_ , exactly.”

“Did you not hear me say cute blonde who’s totally your type?”

“Oh, I did, perfectly,” Lena counters, with a certain kind of disinterest she doesn’t find hard not to feign. “I just fail to see how it’s supposed to live up to what you’ve described.”

“You’re such a hard ass,” Sam bites back, chuckling. “Can your hard ass please come to dinner and save this poor woman from further embarrassment?”

“Sam, I would love to have dinner with you and Ruby but I really do have a ton of—”

But Lena doesn’t get to finish the rest of her sentence. The screen shakes as a hand hovers and snatches Sam’s phone away, and for a hot minute, Lena’s only clues as to what is currently happening are some rustling and the hushed tones Sam and Ruby are sharing. Until _a_ face pops back into view that Lena quickly recognizes is Ruby’s.

“Aunt Lena! We found you a girlfriend!”

Confusion floods Lena’s own, frowning at the girl’s words. “Ruby, what—”

Ruby then flips the camera to _rear_ , Lena’s view changing from the wide grin on Ruby’s face to a two-seater table that’s currently occupied by clearly just one blonde woman.

She’s in a short-sleeved button up shirt that has all sorts of colorful birds on it that Lena doesn’t, _doesn’t_ find charming _at all_. Neither does her long blonde hair gathered in a high ponytail that swishes and sways as she turns to ask for a refill of her empty glass of water, or the way she fidgets with her glasses, waiting for the server to come by.

Lena watches the same blonde woman fiddle with her phone next, taps on it a few times and brings it to her ear. There’s a mix of dejection and chagrin on her face that tugs on something inside Lena, the sight of her gnawing at her bottom lip as she waits for the call to be picked up leaving a slight churning in Lena’s stomach.

Yet, before Lena can even fully decide on what to do, the camera flips back to _front_ again, with Sam’s face greeting her this time.

“Lena, she’s been there for half an hour looking at the door,” Sam appeals. “The server has been by her table _twice_.”

There’s more rustling from Sam’s side of the line, her best friend bending down as Ruby leans up to whisper in more hushed tones. Then, she turns back to Lena. “Ruby says she’s left three voicemails.”

“And Ruby shouldn’t be eavesdropping,” Lena deflects as one last act of defiance. But it’s weak at most, because Lena knows she’ll be caving in the very next second, about to pull some kind of heroics for a woman she doesn’t even know—but may or may not be her type.

(She’s always hated it when Sam’s right.)

“Lena!”

“Fine,” Lena finally relents; rolls her eyes just to maintain some kind of upper hand, like she’s doing them all a favor and not that she’s itching to swoop in and save some cute blonde woman’s night. “Text me the address.”

…

  
  


Kara ducks her head as her server for the night passes by her table one more time, flashing her what Kara deems is a consoling smile. But it’s awkward at best, that Kara has to drop her gaze to ease the tiny pang of guilt in her chest, and _not_ burst out laughing at the same time as she sends her latest message to her and her friends’ group chat. 

_There’s now a ton of whispering between the other customers and the waitress. I think they’re talking about me._

(Kara’s never been a good liar—has never been able to lie with a straight face that’s why Alex always beats her on poker nights. But it’s a challenge that involves free food and beating Winn, so Kara can’t _not_ try.)

_There’s also this young girl and her mom who keep glancing at me. I think they want to get me dinner for being stood up._

_I can’t believe it’s actually working_ , Alex’s reply reads. Just as Winn says, _it doesn’t count if it’s not the free dessert, Kara!!!_

She’s counted a total of forty five minutes of just sitting down and not ordering anything aside from water refills; presumes it’s enough of a _wait_ , so she sends one last message— _Alright, about to tell the entire restaurant that I got stood up_ —and then sets her phone face down on the table with the biggest pout she can muster.

But before she can even open her mouth to speak, something— _someone_ drops on the empty seat right in front of her, staring at Kara like she’s the best thing she’s seen _all day_ as she says, “I’m so sorry, I’m late! I got caught up a little at work, and traffic was already so bad by the time I left.”

Three things happen then: the woman flashes Kara a dimpled smile; Kara feels _it_ disarm her so completely she forgets how to breathe. And the _oh_ that slips out of her mouth is a little too dumbstruck because, _god_ , if she isn’t the most beautiful woman Kara’s ever laid her eyes on.

Perhaps even a _fourth_ , with Kara lamenting about the free dessert she probably won’t get anymore. But Kara’s honestly too mesmerized to notice.

Maybe even _too_ mesmerized, because the woman opens her mouth to speak but Kara can’t hear anything but the soft, silky lilt of her tone; can only see the reddest shade on full lips that are moving.

Kara thinks she reads _hello_ , but it’s the warm touch on her skin that snaps her back to attention, her eyes darting towards where the woman has covered Kara’s hand with her own; feels it burning in the _best_ of ways.

Still, she thankfully manages to scramble for some semblance of _actual_ thoughts at the last minute. “S-sorry?”

“I asked if you have been waiting long,” the woman repeats; smiles at Kara again that Kara’s breath nearly hitches. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re fine—” Kara stammers, her eyes growing wide when her response registers in her brain. “I—I mean—I’m fine.” 

The woman laughs softly at that, then, “Can I buy you dinner to make up for being late?”

Kara swallows visibly. She tries to smile, hoping it doesn’t come out as a grimace as she replies, “It’s—no, it’s okay. You don’t need to do that.”

“Please?” She implores. “I’d hate to leave a bad impression on our first date.”

Kara doesn’t really know what she’d die from on the spot, the embarrassment that’s starting to paint her entire face, or the teasing grin that the woman right in front of her sends her way.

…

  
  


**FREE DESSERT HERE I COME**

Alright

About to tell the entire restaurant 

That I got stood up

**the better danvers obvs**

KARA

KARA IT’S BEEN TWENTY MINUTES

WHERE IS THE UPDATE?????

**FREE DESSERT HERE I COME**

JFKAJDKSLFJEFLKJFDSF

GUYS

**dreamy? that’s me**

Well that wasn’t the update I was hoping for

Did you choke on cheesecake and

that’s you calling for help?

**Querl Dox**

I am sorry, I do not speak

JFKAJDKSLFJEFLKJFDSF

**FREE DESSERT HERE I COME**

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

SHE;fjlkfsiwuoaddfgashff

**the better danvers obvs**

???????

**dreamy? that’s me**

Maybe she’s butt typing

Wouldn’t be the first time

Or the last

*shudders *

**it’s a-me Winn**

Nah, that’s the sound of me

**dreamy? that’s me**

DON’T DO IT

**it’s a-me Winn**

Winn-ing

**dreamy? that’s me**

STILL DID IT

Harry Potter and the AUDACITY

**IT IS I, DOOMED**

LENA

**the better danvers obvs**

She really had the time to

change nicknames but

not tell us what’s happening, huh?

**dreamy? that’s me**

Maybe it’s the cheesecake euphoria

that’s speaking. It happens

you know? After the fourth slice

**Querl Dox**

Perhaps Lena is the name 

of the free dessert Kara

has been given?

**the better danvers obvs**

What kind of fucking restaurant

names their dessert Lena?!?!

**IT IS I, REALLY DOOMED**

Brainy’s right

**the better danvers obvs**

WHAT?????

**dreamy? that’s me**

EXCUSE ME WHAAAAAAAT

**it’s a-me Winn**

WHAT WHAT WHAT

**Dr. Kelly Olsen**

Oh, it seems I’ve walked into 

a very interesting conversation.

What dish is it from? It sounds 

very European.

**IT IS I, REALLY DOOMED**

Irish

**it’s a-me Winn**

Do you even like Irish desserts?

Have you EVEN had an

Irish dessert???

**IT IS I, REALLY DOOMED**

I won’t know until the third date

**dreamy? that’s me**

WAIT BACK UP BACK UP

THIRD DATE?!?!?!

KARA, YOU CAME THERE

FOR FREE DESSERT

**IT IS I, REALLY DOOMED**

Yes, and now I’ve been 

bought dinner but she said 

dessert won’t be until 

the third date

**the better danvers obvs**

EXCUSE ME, SHE?!?!

**IT IS I, REALLY DOOMED**

FOOD’S HERE

I gotta go!!!!!

**the better danvers obvs**

KARA?????

KARA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**dreamy? that’s me**

HARRY POTTER AND THE AUDACITY

TO LEAVE THE GROUP CHAT

JUST LIKE THAT

**it’s a-me Winn**

YOU GO, KARA

**Querl Dox**

Do I get something for being right?

**Dr. Kelly Olsen**

Oh.

…

  
  


“So,” Kara begins to say, playing with her dessert spoon as she waits for Lena to take her bite of peaches and pistachios tart. “I have a confession to make.”

Lena just hums, dabs the napkin over her mouth until she’s ready to speak. “Do tell.”

“I.. didn’t really get stood up,” Kara whispers, looking chagrined and thoroughly embarrassed. “I was just—just acting that I got stood up so I can get a free dessert. But it was for a challenge, I promise!”

Lena merely stares at Kara blankly, her face wholly unreadable that Kara almost squirms in her seat. Though she just drops her gaze instead, reaching for her drinking glass and guzzling the water down.

It causes her to miss the way Lena’s lips twitch, but the mirth is just too hard to contain that she bursts into a huge laugh, head thrown back and her hair tumbling down her shoulders.

Kara nearly chokes on her next sip, blushing for an entirely different reason now because, _golly_ , she’s never seen something as exquisite as Lena’s neck. Her eyes trace its perfect shape, fixing on the beauty mark before sliding down to the dip of Lena’s exposed collarbone.

“I should apologize then,” Lena then says, amidst light giggles that she just can’t seem to fully stifle. “For ruining your plans.”

“Oh no, no,” Kara quickly refutes, waving her hands in gesture. “I got free dinner _and_ dessert, and a second date on top of it. So if anything, I’m more than glad that my plan got ruined.”

“Well,” Lena replies. She reaches for her wine glass, takes a leisurely sip before saying, “You’d get on top of _something_ else by the third date. I’d be glad too, if it was me.”

(Kara really does choke on her water this time.)

…

  
  


**Kara “Lucky Bitch according to Nia” Danvers**

Does my name in the group chat

really have to be this long?

**me jealous? No!**

Kara it’s been a month

and you’re only complaining now?

Besides, not everyone has a

damsel in shining red Gucci

**Kara “Lucky Bitch according to Nia” Danvers**

It was Prada

But that’s not the point!

**me jealous? No!**

And what is the point

supposedly then?

**still the better danvers obvs**

Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?

**Kara “Lucky Bitch according to Nia” Danvers**

Your girlfriend stole my girlfriend

for a “quick chat” about some Obsidian thing

But it’s been 15 mins!!!

Aleeeeex

Tell your girlfriend to give

me my girlfriend back

>:(

**it’s a-me Winn**

You should’ve just headed

to the restaurant first

You probably would’ve

gotten free dessert by now

**still the better danvers obvs**

STOP GIVING HER IDEAS!!!!

**Kara “Lucky Bitch according to Nia” Danvers**

:O :O :O

OMG WINN YOU’RE RIGHT

**it’s a-me Winn**

I mean, we’ve never really

settled that bet……

**still the better danvers obvs**

STOP

**me jealous? No!**

Your gf can literally buy you

an entire freaking restaurant!

Why would you need the

free dessert?!?!?!?!

**Kara “Lucky Bitch according to Nia” Danvers**

It’s not about the free dessert!

It’s about winning and staying on top!

 **“Crazy Rich Lena** ” **according to Nia**

And if you want to stay on top,

you’ll stop with trying to

get free dessert

**Kara “Lucky Bitch according to Nia” Danvers**

Afraid someone else will

swoop in and save the day? ;)

 **“Crazy Rich Lena** ” **according to Nia**

No. I just don’t want you to

embarrass yourself for real this time

**Kara “Lucky Bitch according to Nia” Danvers**

R U D E

>:(

**NOW #1 LENA STAN**

I knew I liked you, Lena!

**it’s a-me Winn**

oOOF

**still the better danvers obvs**

Oh my god, Kara

Mom is going to LOVE her

**Kara “Lucky Bitch according to Nia” Danvers**

I know <333333

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was based on [this post](https://cozysinner.tumblr.com/post/178585778522/supercorp-social-media-au-27)! and was sort of a request that happens to fall to the "dinner" prompt so i figured, why not! haha
> 
> i'd really love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	30. and i snuck in through the garden gate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the kudos and comments, you lovely lot <3

Lena is sixteen when she gets woken up in the middle of the night by a searing kind of agony that tingles all over her right wrist, an all too consuming fire that has her twisting beneath her sheets in fevered sweats.

It lasts _forever_. Lena remembers—doesn’t think she’ll ever even forget—how it only starts to ebb as the sun begins to rise, peeking through the windows of her childhood bedroom like it’s welcoming a completely _new_ Lena Luthor.

But it’s just a mark on her wrist, nine words and forty-four letters scrawled in a simple, clear scribble that’s permanently inked on Lena’s skin. A mark that everyone gets when they’ve come of age, and Lena supposes she finally has. With two weeks away from moving into her apartment in the MIT campus for her first year, it really couldn’t have come at a better time.

Her brother shares the same sentiments it seems, as Lex shoots her impish grins over breakfast when she comes down that morning. “Welcome to the adult table, little sister.”

Lena merely rolls her eyes, but she does shoot him a quip back. “You must be lost, then.”

“And overstaying his welcome,” her mother says behind the cup filled with her morning tea. Lillian matches it with a look she throws at Lena’s direction, her gaze full of mirth.

(Lillian’s not one to wink; thinks it’s _beneath_ her and her character. But if her mother ever did, Lena thinks, it would be right this moment.)

Lex just chuckles at that, spearing a piece of sausage that he pops into his mouth to start on his breakfast. While Lionel grunts his agreement as he folds his morning paper in half; turns to Lena to ask, “What does it say?”

Lena twists her arm to reveal the inside of her wrist. She runs a thumb over the words, almost reverently as she reads out loud, “Every night that summer just to seal my fate.”

Lillian hums in clear approval, her teacup clinking against the saucer she puts it back on. “It sounds very poetic. They could very well be a writer.”

“Maybe even a Pulitzer Prize winner,” Lionel agrees. And a part of Lena feels relieved, seeing both her parents approve. Not that it’s something she and Lex will ever have to worry about, having been raised under the notion of _whatever makes them happy_. But there are some things Lena thinks will always be a little bit harder for her _not_ to fret about. Her parents’ blessing, for one.

Lex’s head snaps up then, mouthing around a biteful of scrambled eggs. “Is that Shakespeare? That’s not Shakespeare, right?”

It’s Lillian who answers him. “I don’t believe it is.”

“I figured,” Lex replies. “Because then it would be—” He sets his fork down and starts stretching his hands in what Lena assumes is _Shakespeare_. “ _Ev’ry night yond summ’r just to sealeth mine own_ if it was.”

He’s rewarded with an exasperated sigh from his mother and Lena pinching the bridge of her nose. But it pulls a laugh out of Lionel, and that’s a definite win in his books.

“I’d still pick that over, what was yours, again?” Lena lobs back a retort. “Oh, right, _fuck, right there, right there_.”

“How many times do I have to say this isn’t my fault?” Lex defends quickly, especially as Lillian’s mouth opens as if to berate him again for _such vulgarity it’s unbecoming_ , like she’s preparing to say the exact same speech Lex got from her six months ago. “And context! Context is very important!”

Lena only raises a challenging brow at him, smirking. “Do you really want me to list all the context it can be taken as?”

“Let’s not,” Lex laughs. “I’d love to hear it personally. But Mom looks like she’s one vulgarity away from having a conniption and she has a board meeting in two hours.”

“If you two do not start finishing your breakfast, I just might.”

…

  
  


Kara is seventeen when the same searing pain stops her mid-stroke, the newly-dipped paint brush slipping from her fingers just as she’s pressed it against the canvas. It daubs a light blue line from the middle and all the way down, creating its own permanent mark on Kara’s work of art.

She vaguely hears Alex running into her room, Alex’s soothing words and soft shushes filling her ears as she tries to sit her down on her bed. But she’s in too much pain to comprehend _anything_ other than the phantom flame that’s setting her wrist on fire.

She feels more than hears Alex rush out, her sister disappearing from her sight as she keels over the edge of her bed, clutching at her hand. Until she’s righted up again, following Alex’s giant strides as she barrels back in holding an ice pack. 

She places it on the inside of Kara’s left wrist, plucks Kara’s glasses off of her face as she tries to comfort her sister. “It’ll pass soon, Kara.”

It takes an _eternity_ —like a millennia and then some—before the mark finally appears. Five words and twenty-two letters, scrawled in an elegant calligraphy full of beautiful loops. 

_Oh, it was never prose_.

“Why does that sound like a song,” Alex comments upon reading it. She lifts Kara’s hand for them to see better, holds it against the afternoon sun lighting Kara’s room.

Kara sucks in a lungful of air, catching her breath in deep huffs. She stares at the mark, too, quiet and unmoving, and only answers Alex when the pain begins to fade. “Maybe my soulmate’s Taylor Swift.”

Alex can only snort at that, sniping a _you wish_ at her sister. Though the hand she brushes along Kara’s hair is nothing but tender.

…

  
  


Lena’s been living in Metropolis for two years when she meets Sam. 

The mark on her wrist still burns from time to time, but Lena has long learned how to deal with the phantom pain it leaves. Though a part of her does wonder if it’ll ever go away, or if Lena will have to wait for some kind of stellar cosmic occurrence before it does.

It comes up one night, when Lena’s had one too many thoughts about her future, and the future of the company Lex is about to leave on her shoulders, coupled with a glass and half of wine. 

“Do you ever think about it?” She asks Sam. But her eyes are trained at the balcony of her penthouse, to the dark, dark sky that’s only illuminated by moonlight. “About meeting your soulmate?”

“At this point,” Sam begins to say. She shuffles on Lena’s couch, setting her own wine glass down on Lena’s coffee table before pressing on. “I’m just hoping it’s not some creep, you know? _You get a lollipop_ doesn’t exactly inspire… virtue.”

Lena chuckles in kind, tearing her gaze away and shifting them to Sam. “It does sound like something you’d hear straight off a sexual… _fantasy_ , for lack of a better term.”

Sam aptly gasps, makes a show of looking over her daughter who’s sleeping on a separate couch. “Lena Luthor! Do you let your mother hear you say things like that?”

“No,” Lena replies. “That’s Lex’s job.”

“God, I keep forgetting that he met Eve at one of Veronica’s _parties_ ,” Sam answers, nearly gagging at the memory. She claws two fingers at the air at _parties_ , glancing at Ruby again to check. “But, what exactly are you thinking about? What about your soulmate?”

There are a lot of things Lena’s _thinking_ about. But ultimately, it all boils down to how she feels about waiting for someone her entire life, without actually knowing if they’d ever even make it. Lena _hates_ the uncertainties and the unknowns, hates that there are points in her life that she can’t just figure out and solve, unlike most of science.

So she tells Sam, “Nothing. I suppose I just wonder if I’m waiting for someone who won’t even come.”

“Oh, honey,” Sam sighs out. She shifts once more, inching closer towards Lena until she can wrap a comforting arm around her best friend’s shoulders. “There’s really no way for us to know for sure. We just need to have faith.”

“Science and faith generally don’t go along.”

“I know,” Sam murmurs. “But there’s also no need to just pick one when you can have both.”

…

  
  


Kara’s still quite new to National City when Alex meets Sam, during a daring mission to stop the group of bank robbers that Alex’s team has been tracking down for months. Sam happens to be inside the same bank the robbery takes place, shielding a little boy from the acts of lawlessness the moment the robbers kick open the bank’s door.

That’s how Alex finds her, huddled at the corner with the little boy and his mom, the three of them trembling in fear. But Sam was the one who’d put on a brave face—when one of the robbers thrust a black string bag on their faces and instructed them to put _everything_ they own inside— _still_ putting on the same brave face as one of Alex’s agents asks her for her version of events.

And then, when it’s all done and the witnesses are told that they can finally leave, Alex pulls a lollipop from the secret pocket in her coat, offering it to Sam wordlessly until Sam says, “I get a lollipop?”

Alex gasps, nearly fumbling through an answer. “You get a lollipop,” she replies, filled with laughter that comes straight from the joy blooming in her chest because, _finally_.

They tell Kara at game night. Kara, whose eyes won’t stop twinkling as she listens to the story once from Alex’s side of things, and a second time from Sam’s.

It’s the same time Kara meets Sam in an _official_ sense, too, having only heard about her from Alex’s stories during sister nights.

“So how long have you been here in National City, Kara?” Sam asks; thanks Alex for the bottle of sparkling water she hands her with a chaste kiss. “Alex tells me you’re new to the city.”

“Nearing four months,” Kara replies, and she can’t help the smile that spreads across her lips at the unmistakable connection between her sister and Sam. “I was offered a new job, and CatCo was willing to help me relocate. Really, it was an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“She was pilfered,” Alex chimes in. And at Sam’s confused look, she says, “Pulitzer Prize winner. Of course Cat Grant’s gonna want her.”

“You flatter me, Alex.”

Sam and Alex both laugh at that, at the faux _haughty_ way Kara presses a hand over her chest. Then, Alex says, “Just doing my job as the best sister.” 

And Sam follows it right after. “What was the article about?”

“Uhm, the role of women in advancing technology,” Kara replies. “And it covered all the theories, and the laws, and the algorithms that women have discovered but never got enough credit for.”

“Oh my god,” Sam squeaks, scooting to the edge of Kara’s couch in excitement. “You have to meet my best friend! She’s going to love you.”

…

  
  


Lena is twenty-four when she meets Kara.

Lena, who’s a _complete_ stranger to game nights, but still says _yes_ to the invite Sam extends. She’s not entirely sure what makes her accept, other than thinking she’s not really doing anything on a Saturday night.

She comes bearing a variety of snacks that Sam teases her relentlessly about when she picks Lena up, and finds Lena with two huge bags filled with chips—all in good-nature of course—like if she’s bought the entire store and every kind of snack on display.

It’s a completely normal night. Nothing unusual. No indications that Lena’s life is about to change in the most cosmic of ways as Sam raps on Kara’s door in gentle knocks.

It’s Alex who comes up to let them in, Alex who Lena has met a few times and knows her fairly well. Ever the perfect gentlewoman, she takes Lena’s bags and the pastry boxes Sam has brought with her and sets them on the nearby dining table, then zips back to take their coats.

Kara’s apartment is _homey_ , Lena thinks as she walks in, that brings about a certain calm and warmth to her that has nothing to do with the sweater she’s wearing. There’s music playing low and soft, her ears picking up beautiful beats she’s not familiar with, the kind most people would dance slow to in the middle of the living room during nights they feel silly.

“Oh, I love this song!” Sam echoes, humming the same tune and mumbling lines she remembers. _All’s well that ends well to end up with you_.

“Kara’s been in a Taylor Swift mood all day,” Alex explains with a fond roll of her eyes.

“Hey, I’ll have you know that I happen to think she’s great,” Sam chides playfully. “Life is too short to hate on her, babe.”

“I never said I hate her,” Alex defends. “I like her! I’m just saying Kara’s in a mood. I’m starting to think part of her genuinely believes she’s her soulmate.”

“Don’t we all wish,” Sam concurs. Then, she turns to Lena, “Right, Lena?”

“I—” Lena tries to reply. But there’s only so much she can say about something she vaguely knows about. So, she confesses, “I can’t say I’ve listened to any of her songs.”

To her surprise, Alex bursts out laughing. And Lena would’ve taken offense on it if Alex hadn’t apologized the next second, saying, “Sorry, sorry! Just—don’t let Kara hear you say that. She can go on about her for ages.”

Lena can only laugh as she nods in reply.

“Speaking of, where is she anyway?” Sam then asks. She cranes her neck, trying to look past the screen that prefaces Kara’s bedroom as if to check if Kara has been hiding there all along.

“She went to get ice cream,” Alex answers. “And she’s probably on her way back, so I guess I can start preparing the snacks.”

Lena stands just as Alex and Sam do, refusing to _not_ make herself useful and just sit around and wait. So Alex hands her bowls to fill with nachos, while she takes a couple of dips out to whip up the perfect sauce—in Sam’s words, not even Alex’s.

They work in relative silence, save for the music still crooning in the background, and Sam and Alex’s banter that Lena tries hard not to stare at out of respect. She relocates her bowls to the corner of the small table that’s closest to the door to give them _that_ privacy; finds herself bopping her head to the beat of the new song that comes on.

The door cracks open just as the song rolls from the second chorus to its bridge, and Lena’s trying to pry one particularly stubborn chip bag open. She easily could ask for a pair of scissors, she knows, but Lena already has her hands on it, and if anything, she’s much more stubborn than the bag itself. It crinkles and rustles in her hands as she pulls, refusing to budge, until Lena takes a quiet second to think of a new strategy.

And that’s when she _hears_ it.

It filters to the room like silk, a voice that floats far more softer than the music playing. But Lena hears it as clear as day, hears the very same words she has committed to every inch of her memory, drifting to Lena’s ears in the least stellar occurrence.

 _Every night that summer just to seal my fate_.

It’s the very same line that announces Kara’s returning presence, greeted by _you better have gotten me chocolate_ from her sister and a _hey Kara_ that Lena’s best friend welcomes her with.

Yet Lena can only gasp, can only turn at Kara and look at her—see her for the very first time.

And she’s _beautiful_. Lena has met hundreds of beautiful people, her job at L-Corp granting her that chance, but Kara is one of a kind. A category of her own, with her blonde hair and the clearest blue eyes, and the brightest smile she bestows Lena with even though they’ve never even met.

There really is only one thing to say, reinforcing the cosmic link that the universe has decided to gift them both with. “Oh, it was never prose.”

Kara drops the paper bag in her arms, the metal tub hitting Kara’s floor with a loud _thud_. A stunned surprise takes over her face, but she manages to push the words out before her throat can close up, the magnitude of what is happening slowly sinking in. “I-it’s you.”

Lena smiles at her in answer and nods, inching closer towards Kara like she’s being pulled by an invisible string right into Kara’s orbit. 

Then, she says, “It is me.”

And at Kara’s _oh my god_ , _I’ve been waiting for you all my life_ Lena feels complete.

…

  
  


(Lena would thank Sam first, and the science of game night that Sam’s invite had given way to _everything_. 

But later, way later, she’d thank Sam’s faith. The very same faith she’d asked Lena to have when she gave her the choice to have both.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this worked out the way i was hoping it would haha
> 
> i'd really love to know what you guys think! you can come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


	31. better run, better run, outrun my gun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last fill! my heartfelt thanks to those gave these fics a chance, and who left kudos and comments! thank you so much <3

It’s kind of fitting, Kara thinks, that it happens on a Halloween night.

Multiverses have always been tricky at best. Traveling through it even more so. So when Kara lands smack dab in the thick of some woods after responding to Barry and Sara’s distress call, surrounded by the tallest trees that block most of the already weak light, a part of her isn’t at all surprised.

It’s not the first time it happened, and Kara’s quite sure it won’t be the last. So she’s come up with some kind of checklist of her own to try and cover the basics, precisely for times like _this_.

Her suit is still intact, for one. Her boots leave heavy marks on the snow as she starts trudging forward, her cape carving its own path in her wake. Though she doesn’t feel remotely cold, at least; Kara figures her powers have been left unaffected, too.

But her comms with Barry and Sara have surely been cut, the absence of the soft static she usually hears echoing from her earpiece deafening in the dead silence. It’s especially daunting when Kara thinks of where the portal has dropped her, as the stock-still darkness reminds her of one of the few things that terrifies even the Girl of Steel.

For a long moment, the squelch of her boots is the only sound that fills the quiet air, and it fills Kara with a pang of dread in turn. The forest is so thick and so green, and yet, there is no sign of life within the endless stretch of snow and greenery. There’s a distinct lack of birds chirping, or wild animals scurrying away to hide. No movement nor sound aside from Kara’s own and Kara’s heartbeat pounding in her ears.

There is only darkness that’s slowly spreading across the backwoods, and it gives Kara the feeling like she’s running out of light and out of time. It quickens her pace, all the while training her ears to the barest hint of sound—of any sign that she isn’t completely alone in such an untouched piece of land.

Eventually she breaks through. Kara reaches the last of the tall trees and bursts through the wide gaps, only to be greeted by an even bigger expanse filled with snow, and a wooden barn that stands all by itself near the tract’s farthest edge.

“Okay,” Kara blows a breath out, her gaze darting around what she now thinks is the eeriest place she’s ever been to. “That is _not_ creepy at all.”

There isn’t anything else in the vicinity other than the barn, and a brick well right across the empty road. But past the well is even more thicker snow, and a thicker set of towering trees that Kara’s not too keen to explore.

It’s all too confusing and admittedly a little alarming that Kara feels the hairs on the back of her neck rise, goosebumps prickling her skin beneath her suit; feels like there are eyes watching her from every crevice and shadowy chasm of the woodland behind her. And what was once a dreadfully silent air now has leaves rustling, and the crunch of snow underneath heavy footsteps that aren’t hers.

But Kara just shakes it off, mumbling to herself, “Where the heck am I?”

Until, from behind her, echoes a scream.

…

  
  


It’s _inhuman_ , is what it is. A loud, high-pitched sound that has Kara nearly buckling on her knees as its sharpness slices through the air and straight into Kara’s ears.

It’s a fact she gets some kind of confirmation of when she whirls around, her own eyes growing wide at the razor-sharp red gaze that greets her, and a face Kara can only describe as bone-chilling.

Its eyes are dark and sunken, save for the red glow that’s bolstered by its pale skin and a set of rotting teeth, grinning menacingly at Kara like it has found its very next meal.

Wholly taken aback, Kara screams right back at it—right on its long face and at the top of her lungs like she’s never screamed before. Her hand grows a mind of its own, rearing so far back like a bow that’s bracing for a shot, until Kara releases the string and her fist shoots like an arrow straight to the creature’s face.

Kara hears her knuckles land on its mangled nose, hears the shuffle of its legs as it stumbles back from the force. She watches its head get thrown back as its form falls on the snow with a heavy thump, sinking through the white sheet slowly. 

She waits with bated breath if the creature is going to stand back up, letting a good beat pass before concluding that it’s not going to. Still, she cautiously kicks at its muddy foot to check if it’s really knocked out; exhales a breath full of relief when it doesn’t move.

Kara then turns around, a disgusted look on her face as she wipes her fist with her sleeve, clean of the slimy liquid that managed to stick. Though it just slides right off and Kara shivers with even more disgust, the rotten smell filling her nose. “I am so gonna get this dry cleaned fifteen hundred times.”

Then, she starts trudging towards the direction of the barn, because, _really_ , it’s better than nothing at this point. And if it somehow ends up being a house full of more creatures like the one she’s leaving behind, she’ll just have to deal with it.

(And while she knows that she can easily float above the snow or fly the remaining distance between the barn and her, she’s in a completely new world with far too many unknowns. Kara wants to hold her powers closer to her chest—her _aces_ —for a little while longer, at least until she’s gotten a good grasp of where she is exactly.)

Yet, before she’s even able to take another step, the bloodcurdling scream echoes again. Kara pivots just as quick and braces herself when she spots the creature charging angrily at her; puts both of her fists up, her eyes trained on its snarling form.

But a whistling sound shatters the creature’s scream before it makes it to Kara, a knife digging solidly on its chest before it explodes into ashes right in front of Kara’s eyes.

Kara’s mouth falls open then, gaping at the dust now littered all over the snowy ground. It’s a scene straight out of a movie, Kara can’t help but think—can’t help but wonder if she’s in one now, too, like that time Myx dropped her in the middle of a musical.

Though, she gets her answer when she trails her gaze towards where the knife seemingly has sprung out from, her entire _everything_ freezing as she finds the one person she’d cross the entire Multiverse for at the end of it.

Because in every universe she’d come and gone and met Lena, they had _never_ met at gunpoint.

…

  
  


She’s still the same Lena that Kara _knows_ , the sharp glint in her eyes and the set of her jaw wholly familiar. But she’s different, _too_ , in a way. Her designer clothes have been traded for grimy jeans and a pair of snow boots, her gadgets gone, replaced by a gun holster and a belt that holds silver bullets and a set of knives.

But she’s _still_ Lena. Despite the _scant_ space in between them that feels like _oceans_ —like there’s a void right in the middle shaped like the shotgun Lena’s clutching tightly in her hands—she’s still Lena to Kara. 

Yet it’s Lena’s eyes that pierces right through her defenses, looking at Kara like she doesn’t trust her— _doesn’t_ know her. Like they’ve never even met. Like Kara doesn’t taste the sun in Lena’s lips every time they kiss, or map galaxies in the freckles on her skin.

Like she’s never told Kara _I adore you_ in that same voice that now snarls at her, “Who are you?!”

Kara holds both her hands up just as Lena’s grip on the gun tightens. She’s bulletproof—she’s _bulletproof_ , but Kara knows it’ll be a different kind of wound if Lena ever pulls that trigger. _Knows_ it will tear open a vein that will never ever heal. So Kara says as soothing as she can, “It’s me, Kara.”

Lena didn’t seem to like her answer, judging by the way she draws the gun even higher, her index finger hovering right above the trigger. “Kara is resting back inside the homestead. Try again. And tell me the truth, because this time, I won’t hesitate.”

“I really am Kara,” Kara hurries to explain, the corner of her eye catching Lena’s fingers squeezing around the barrel. “Just from Earth Prime.”

“That tells me nothing,” Lena replies coldly.

“I was on my way to help Barry and Sara. But I landed here instead.”

Lena eases slightly, Kara notes. “Sara?”

“Yeah,” Kara nods. “Sara Lance. She—”

“Captains the Waverider,” Lena finishes for her. “I know.”

“You—you know?”

“We’ve met,” Lena then explains. She pulls the gun back much to Kara’s relief, hooking the sling across her chest. “The situation here got so dire once we almost—”

But Lena cuts herself off, and Kara knows her—any _version_ of her—enough not to ask. So instead, she offers, “Their ship just appeared out of nowhere?”

“Yes,” Lena affirms with a tight nod. “Kara was starting to run out of energy, but the demons just kept on coming. She had cast one last spell she thought was powerful enough to send them all back, but she lost consciousness halfway through. It—I was so—”

Lena takes another pause, exhaling a breath as if she’s pushing the very same memory out of her own thoughts. “Anyway, Captain Lance’s team came to our rescue and Constantine took care of the rest of them.”

“Wait,” Kara starts to say. Her eyes grow wide as the rest of Lena’s words registers in her brain, throwing Lena an incredibly stunned look. “Wait, back up. Demons? Spells? I cast spells here?!”

“Well not just spells. It’s almost every piece of magic,” Lena answers, flashing Kara an amused smirk. “You’re the most powerful sorceress on this Earth. But, right now, you’re quite occupied with banishing demons back to hell.”

Kara’s eyes gleam like she wasn’t attacked by an actual demon mere moments ago, or that the Lena of this Earth—that Kara still _loves_ regardless—did not hold her at gunpoint. “Magic! You mean like, the type that can conjure potstickers anytime, right?”

Lena laughs softly at that, because if there are two things in the Multiverse that Lena _knows_ is never going to change, it’s Kara’s love of food, and her unwavering devotion to Lena. So she cocks her head, pointing towards the direction of their homestead, then, “Why don’t I just let her show you? I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to meet you, too.”

…

  
  


_Kara_ —the _sorceress_ one, Kara can’t still believe—is resting on the surprisingly comfortable-looking bed. Her back is propped against the headboard, her eyes poring over a page of what Kara suspects is a book full of magical spells.

She doesn’t hear them over the scratch of pen on old, crinkling paper, but she does sense their presence immediately. Her head snaps up, smiling wide at Lena, and in turn, at Kara.

Lena tuts disapprovingly at her, though. “I thought I told you to rest. This doesn’t look like you’re resting.” She walks towards the bed, plucking the book out of sorceress Kara’s hands before pressing a kiss to her lips to soothe any of her protests. “We also have a visitor.”

“I can see that,” Kara’s magical self replies; curls an arm around Lena’s waist when Lena takes the empty space right next to her.

And she doesn’t look surprised at all, as if it’s not the first time a version of _them_ has wandered off and popped up on this exact same place. “You don’t look surprised to see me.”

“You’re not really the first one, I’m afraid,” the sorceress clears. “It’s because of an anachronism that Sara and her team are still trying to fix. At least that’s what she told us.”

“Oh,” Kara mumbles as she finally starts making sense of things. “I guess that was what the distress call was for. I was on my way to help, but I landed here.”

“Sorry,” sorceress Kara apologizes. “I know a thing or two about things not going according to plans.” She turns to look at Lena then, touching their foreheads quickly in silent understanding.

(Kara can’t help but smile at that sight. But there’s a pang in her chest that suddenly blooms, an ache that _her_ Lena can only soothe.)

“Anyway, I’m sure you have a lot of questions. If I know us...”

She lets the thought trail off, knowing Kara _knows_ what she means. She gestures at one of the nearby chairs instead, asking Kara to take a seat.

Kara pulls one from the modest dining table, plopping down with barely-contained excitement. “I have _tons_. But, first things first. Can you really make potstickers appear out of thin air?!”

A laugh titters from both Lena and the blonde woman sitting right next to her. Kara’s sorceress self doesn’t reply, save for the smirk she flashes _Supergirl_ before waving a hand in the air until a bowl full of potstickers appears on her palm.

The Girl of Steel lets out a loud squeal, snatching the bowl from her other self’s hand when she offers. And in between full bites, she says, “That’s so cool! What else can you make?”

The most powerful sorceress of this world merely shrugs, relishing the chuckle she coaxes from Lena, then, “You name it, and you’ll have it.”

Kara’s never swallowed potstickers so fast.

…

  
  


When _her_ Lena finds her, she’s on her fifth slice of pizza—that Lena has heated in the oven this time, since Kara is still under strict instructions to rest—huddled under a spare blanket and deep in another one of the sorceress’ stories.

The telltale blue of the portal pops above their heads with a crack, growing bigger and bigger in the middle of sorceress Kara and Lena’s living room, until it opens and out spills Kara’s _Lena_.

She’s in yesterday’s dress that Kara remembers, a wild look in her eyes as she sweeps through the house for _her_ Kara, rushing into her arms when she finds her. “Oh, darling, I was so worried!” Her arms are thrown around Kara’s neck, pinning Kara between her chest and Kara’s chair. “Are you okay?”

Kara nods, or tries to, at least. But she finds it a little harder to move without jostling _things_ , so she speaks. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Lena merely leans back, looking Kara over as if to see for herself. She does seem completely unharmed, though, save for the pizza sauce on her face that Lena just wipes away with an endeared chuckle.

“You really do save my ass in every universe, huh?”

Lena jumps away from Kara’s hold at the sudden voice, twisting around to find the source. She clears her throat when she sees their other selves sitting by the bed, Kara grinning at her as she waves _hi_ , while Lena just nods, as if to agree. “Do you really think I’d do differently?”

“No,” other Kara replies, directing an even bigger, _dorkier_ grin to her Lena now. “Because you _looove_ me.”

Other Lena just rolls her eyes in answer and returns her attention back to their guests. Then she eyes Lena’s dress, looking it up and done before opening her mouth to speak. “I do miss the dresses. But it’s the least practical thing to wear when you hunt demons almost on the daily.”

“Demons,” Lena repeats.

“Yeah,” her Kara seconds. “And babe! I do magic spells here! Can you believe it?”

There’s a split second where Lena freezes, though, to her credit, it lasts just as long. Lena manages to collect herself and her thoughts the very next tick of the clock, taking the rest of it in stride and stocking the knowledge for her to dive into once they get back home. “I suppose it’s bound to happen at some point.”

“Think about all the potstickers I could make! Or the ice cream! Or turn those people being mean to you into ducks!” Then, she turns to her other self for confirmation. “We can do that right?”

“But,” Lena says just as the other Kara nods eagerly, her answering smile soft as she cups Kara’s cheek. “I like you just the way you are.”

Kara _melts_ at that, leaning into her touch with a goofy grin. “Really?”

“Really,” Lena upholds. “And I’m sure Alex and the rest of our friends will tell you the same.”

Kara just inches towards her then, kisses Lena chastely and murmurs _I love you so much_ in between. Then, “I guess we should get home.”

“Yes,” Lena agrees. “Before your sister accidentally creates a rip in the universe looking for you. I almost did, you know?”

“I know. But you found me.”

“I did. And I always will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea if it's as spooky as what my mind thought it would look like but i'd really love to know what you guys think! 
> 
> you can also come yell at me @ [inanotheruniversemusings](https://inanotheruniversemusings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> and if you liked my work (and my other stuff), you can also check my tumblr if you're looking for ways to support me (like buying me coffee :D)


End file.
